Crossroads
by BerLina
Summary: Sequel to Ignition, but you don't need to have read it to understand this. Kate and Rick are trying to take their relationship to the next level, but work always seems to get in their way. Will they overcome the obstacles? Caskett fluff and smut. Enjoy!
1. Prologue I

**This is the sequel to my story "Ignition". That said, you DO NOT have to read Ignition to understand this! But of course you are welcome to. ;)**

_All you have to know is that this story turned semi-AU about halfway through season 3. It's actually not as complicated as it sounds: Knockdown never happened. The kiss in the alley never happened. Knockout never happened. The Captain is still alive. BUT the bomb and the freezer happened. See? Not that complicated. Following the events of Ignition, Castle and Beckett are dating. Everything else will pretty much be explained.  
><em>

_This is rated M. You have been warned. _

_Now Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>JANUARY 15<strong>**th - Prologue I  
><strong>

Richard Castle was not a man that was easily scared. He wouldn't describe himself as an overly courageous hero, but he certainly had his moments. Normally it took major things like dirty bombs or serial killers to shake him up, but when Kate Beckett was staring at him the way she was right now, his heart was suddenly beating in his throat and his palms got sweaty. She was looking at him as if something was bothering her. As if he had done something wrong. As if she was tempted to run again, hide from this the way she used to.

It had been a normal evening for them; he had opened a bottle of her favorite wine as she had excused herself for the bathroom. With a heavy sigh he had settled down on his couch, wanting nothing more than to relax after the tiring case they had just closed. Kate had reappeared after a minute and sat down next to him. Somewhat unexpectedly she had avoided his eyes and remained silent for a minute.

He had given her whatever time she needed. Then their eyes had met and that look had been on her face.

He could deal with her when she was angry. Sad, even. He could also deal with all kinds of thoroughly pissed Kate, but he never knew what to say when she looked like she was about to run.

Rick swallowed thickly.

"What is it?" His voice sounded flimsy and weak even to his own ears.

"There's a toothbrush for me in your bathroom. And it's not the one you had left over that I had been using until now. You bought this one for me."

He felt a weird tingling in his stomach, an uncertain feeling of not knowing whether to feel excited or scared or both. He couldn't decide on which feeling to settle and figured that she probably couldn't either.

Her eyes were large, her fear badly disguised as she searched his face for questions and answers. Her toes were curling and uncurling on the carpet; she wasn't even hiding her nervousness.

"You have a drawer full of your stuff at my place," she whispered.

Rick's eyes widened and he couldn't help but move closer to her on the couch, their knees brushing. "Are we going too fast, do you want to take a step back?"

They had been together for almost 2 months now, which was both a long and a short time considering it had taken them 3 years to admit their feelings. The anniversary of Johanna Beckett's death had been last week and he had held her in his arms when she had broken down. Lanie had later told him that it had been the first time that Kate had ever let anyone else be with her on that particularly horrible day of every year. He had taken it as a positive sign, but had accepted a long time ago that when it came to Kate, a step forward could always be followed by two steps back.

She sighed. "No, it's just…"

"You're scared."

The moment it was out of his mouth he wanted to bite his tongue, but now it was too late. She gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"Of us? Of love?"

She looked down and fiddled with her father's watch.  
>"I love you, you know that" she said softly, but didn't meet his gaze.<p>

"Tell me what you're scared of and I'll let it disappear. I'm good at that," he said and dared to lightly touch her cheek and turn her face to his. Not because he didn't believe her, but because he needed her to believe him.

He thought he saw the hint of a smile, but it was a melancholy one, a smile so dark that his heart sped up. His hand fell away from her face and settled on her shoulder, his other on her thigh, right above her knee.

"This you won't let disappear" she told him, her gaze dropping once more, and he had to wet his lips before he could talk again.

"I'll try, I promise. Just say what's wrong and I'll try to fix it."

He'd been in enough failed relationships to know that moments like this could be crucial. He wasn't going to let this one slip through his fingers. His hand on her thigh found her fingers and he gently took her hands in his and drew her closer.  
>"You know that we can do this at your pace. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it. I'll even throw away the toothbrush I bought for you if that'll make you feel better."<p>

She smiled softly, a genuine smile this time, but then turned serious again. She lifted her head and looked straight into his concerned eyes.

"I feel like I belong."

The emotions dwelled so quickly that he almost choked on his breath. His eyes closed and his head fell forward to touch their foreheads together.  
>"You're right" he whispered unsteadily, their noses brushing gently. "I won't try to fix that."<p>

He felt as overwhelmed and moved as he had when she'd first told him that she loved him, that night after the incident at the helicopter hangar. When he pulled back and found her eyes again he saw the exact same emotions swimming there – fear, worry, love, hope. And just like that night, he wished with all his heart that the latter two would reign supreme.

"I love you" she whispered and he pulled her into his arms, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"I know" he answered, because it had been more of an apology than a declaration.

His arms anchored her tightly to his body and his breath was warm and quivering against the nape of her neck. "And I know how much it means for you to say that."

"I don't want to be running, but I can't help it" she said, telling him what he already knew. "I wish I could" she added, barely a whisper.

He simply held her tight. "Just let it happen, Kate. Let go."

"I can't" she said, almost desperately, and paused. Minutes later – or it might have only been seconds - he felt her wet mouth against his neck. Then just behind his ear. He shuddered. Her teeth closed around his earlobe and her tongue flicked out. "Make me."

All blood shot south and he pulled back to find her lips. They would have to talk about this sooner or later, but for now this was enough. His strong hands pressed her body into his and his kiss made her worries disappear for the moment. When his tongue coaxed the first moan out of her, he stood up, pulling her with him. Her reddening lips left his, but her hands were busy with his shirt buttons even when they hurried to stumble up the stairs. As shirts were tossed carelessly onto the ground and Kate stood panting in front of him, her cheeks flushed, Rick thought it was a good thing that Alexis wouldn't be home tonight.

She had the button and zipper on his pants undone in record time, but he moved out of her reach and pulled the covers from his spacious bed. She crawled up towards the headboard and watched him intently as he followed to hover above her, his eyes full of love and care. He stretched to kiss her again and she relaxed into the pillows, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down with her.

Nibbling from her lips to her chin, Rick tried to catch his breath.  
>"I know everything with us still seems so scary and new…" he murmured. His fingers feathered across her shoulders and freed her from the confines of her bra. "…But new can also mean good" he said, his mouth hot against her throat. "Great, even."<p>

His hand just barely skimmed the underside of her breast. She made an appreciative sound and dragged her hands down his back. When they slipped into the pants he still wore, he drew away. This time she wouldn't be in control. His hand on her shoulder stopped her gently when she wanted to raise herself up in protest. The muscles in her jaw flexed. He knew this wouldn't be easy for her.

She took a deep breath and tried to relax. This was far from the first time they had done this, but in the back of their minds they both knew that she had rarely given up all of her control. Even when passion clouded their minds, she had always been in charge.

"Let me" he told her and tasted the skin between her breasts. He never tired of touching her, kissing her, of seeing her skin flush with desire. He took the greatest pleasure in pleasuring her, something that he had never experienced in this intensity with any other woman. He took his time in spite of his own impatience. He knew the longer the orgasm was building, the harder it would shatter them.

"All you need to do is trust me" he whispered against the skin of her stomach as he gingerly dragged her pants down her endless legs, taking her underwear right with him and divesting himself of his own pants before he laid back down. His hands trailed back up the inside of her thighs when she was free of any garments, but his eyes rested firmly on her face.

Using his knowledge of her body, Rick touched her everywhere she liked to be touched while still neglecting the part of her that needed him the most, caressing her thighs, the back of her right knee, her left hipbone, just below her navel, that spot that made her back arch up. He was working her up towards climax with lips, tongue, fingers and sometimes just his breath until she grew impatient under him.

Her hands reached out for him, wanting to touch him and give back what she received, win back some of the control that she was currently losing thanks to his many talents.

He didn't let her.

"Do you trust me?" he asked as his left hand grabbed her hip to still her movements and his right circled closer to her already dripping wet center.

"Yes" she breathed and her voice hitched when one of his fingers slipped over and into her. His grip on her hip kept her firmly in place as his tongue dipped into her navel and then made its way lower.

Her eyes widened when she realized what he was about to do.

It wasn't as if he had never done it before, but it usually happened during one of their fast, playful rounds where everything happened so fast and in such a flurry of desire that they barely remembered the details of it afterwards.

When they took their time like now, exploring every inch of skin and letting the heat simmer until it consumed them before finally giving in to it, she had somehow managed to avoid this particular kind of touch.

Somehow underneath all her confidence, her teasing, there was something that had always stopped her when he'd advanced on her like that, because she knew exactly what it would do to her. She knew that one touch of his tongue on her would spiral her out of control, shoot her off all cliffs and turn her brain into a useless mass of mush.

She was no prude, open to anything from counter tops to bathroom floors, and they were extraordinary together, every time. But it made her feel vulnerable when he caressed her like that. It made her feel bare and open and raw and although it was such a great, fantastic feeling to have his tongue caress her, her need to stay in control, even in bed, was usually stronger. She'd always coyly played it down, distracting him enough to not let him wonder about it, but of course he'd noticed.

Before she could come to any conclusion or decision, another finger pushed into her and Rick murmured "Just let go, Kate" against her skin.

And then his mouth was on her and his tongue was playing with her clit and all she could think was_ "Oh god, Yes!"_

Then she stopped thinking altogether and finally, finally let go.

He lifted his mouth to look at her as her throat produced the sweetest of sounds and her face lay bathed in the silvery light of the moon. His fingers kept pumping into her and as she slowly came down from her orgasm, she was right at the brink of another, lingering on that delicious edge that made her buck and arch into his touch. Her short nails dug forcefully into his shoulders.

"So close" she panted and he curled his fingers inside her. It made her scream, but it wasn't enough to make her come again.

"Do it again" she whimpered and he knew that she wasn't referring to what he'd just done with his fingers. So his lips were back on her heat and with some well-directed flicks of his tongue she came apart again.

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><p><strong>AN:** _*coughcough* Hi there. __J__ I would really appreciate it if you told me whether you liked this. And yes, the beginning of this chapter was inspired by a cover of Taylor Swift's "Mine". There you have it, I confessed. Judge away, as Kate Beckett would say ;D_

_And before you get started on the loft and that his bedroom is downstairs – I know. But in Ignition, Rick's bedroom was upstairs, and I liked that dynamic so I'm not going to change it. :P_

_Thank you so much for reading!  
>Much Love,<em>

_Lina  
><em>


	2. Prologue II

**A/N:**_ Thank you guys so much for all the reviews, alerts and favorites! You are awesome._

_Special Thanks to __**actuallyido**__, __**just someone**__, __**Kathleen**__ and __**pkl **__who I couldn't thank via reply. Another special thanks to Manu and Lu who read over chapter 1 for me while my wonderful beta Tycho was on a well-deserved vacation. _

_Umm…This chapter has very little substance. I apologize for that. But then again, this is still just the prologue to the actual story._

_Enjoy! :D_

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><p><em><strong>Prologue II<strong>_

When the waves of her second orgasm subsided and her limp body fell back onto the bed, he pulled his fingers out of her. She sighed at the loss, the sound almost drowned out in her erratic breathing.

Rick brought the moist digits up to his mouth, but she stopped him by his wrist before he could reach his target. His erection was already tenting his boxers, hard and hot against her thigh from watching her come for him. When she started to suck her own juices from his fingers, it grew to almost painful. Just the thought of that delicious hot mouth and what it could do to him in other places was enough to make his head swim.

Her eyes were shining with a sated gleam and dark with a lusty desire for more. Their gazes remained locked even as she released his fingers with a pop and guided his hand down to cup her breast. Her soft skin was slick with a coat of perspiration, her nipples pebbled as she silently ordered him to touch her. Her own hand released his wrist and moved down lower, lightly scratching his abdomen before slipping beneath the silky fabric that still covered him and grasping him firmly.

He gasped; her name both an expletive and a caress as it fell from his lips. She could see the muscles tense where he was holding himself above her, at the same time pressing her into the mattress as he was trying to hold back the thrusting of his hips into her hand. He wanted her. Badly.

Her hand was gliding deliciously up and down his shaft, her nails lightly scratching, teasing him oh so lightly. She knew that she was driving him crazy.

When neither of them could take it anymore, they collectively tugged at his boxers, frantically trying to rid him of this last thing that stood between him, her and heaven.

His legs got tangled up and he cursed, his voice strained with impatience and lust. Kate chuckled when he was finally freed.

He found her lips, their kiss all-consuming and mind-spinning as she placed him at her entrance.

He broke the kiss to brace his forehead against the pillow next to her face, slowly pushing into her. His eyes were squeezed shut as he tried not to blow right then and there.

"Oh…" she breathed and quivered beneath him as her sensitized body invited him in, inch by wonderful inch. He waited until she stopped trembling and slid almost all the way out. Her hands gripped his back and when he pushed into her again, her hips rose to meet his thrust.

He stopped and moved one hand to her hip, holding it firmly in place.

"Don't move" he ordered and pulled out. Her hips followed his motions automatically and he stilled once more.

"I said don't move" he repeated and lightly bit into the tender flesh of her neck. "If you move your hips, I'm going to mark you" he threatened, biting her shoulder to demonstrate his words.

His voice was tight and controlled and her body involuntarily arched into him. He chuckled and pressed a languid kiss to her collarbone. The raspy sound, combined with his gentle touch, made her shiver violently and he cursed.

"Kate, if you keep moving, this is going to be over in about 2 and a half seconds and it's going to leave every fiber of your body aching for release until you're begging me to make you come" he murmured against her skin, but she almost didn't care - she was already begging. He still wasn't moving, his length stretching and filling her but not causing the friction she so desperately needed. Kate made a mewling sound and spread her knees wider for him, the new angle bringing him deeper into her without him actually moving.

Although his erection was throbbing and pulsing inside her, he still did not start to thrust and instead laved at the spot he had just sunk his teeth into, his fingers teasing her hips. She choked on air and arched her neck to give him better access. Returning to the last trick she knew, she squeezed her inner muscles around him and, ignoring his warnings, dug her heels into his back and used the strength in her thighs to bring him even closer. This time, he was the one to tremble.

"So good" Rick moaned and sealed his lips to hers in a blazing kiss that knocked the last of air from her lungs. Achingly slow he started to thrust, his darkened eyes searching her face. She broke the kiss to breathe and languidly opened her eyes, her long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings.

"Please, I…" she begged, and even the strongest man could not have denied her. His iron control snapped and he began to thrust hard and fast. After a blurry hot minute, he could feel her contracting around him, so he slid a finger between their sweaty bodies and found her clit. She all but sobbed and he grunted.

"Yes, Kate. Just let go."

She exploded around him, her world going bright with colors and then dark, her muscles contracting forcefully as he pushed in with one last strong shove and spilled inside her. He collapsed on top of her, his head resting just above her racing heart.

After a while, her hands moved from where they had laid limply at her sides to thread through his mussed hair. He pressed his lips to her damp skin in an almost reverent kiss and looked up at her face, sensing that she was watching him.

The wet streaks of tears on her cheeks took him by surprise.

"Did I hurt you?" he immediately worried, pulling away from her to gently cradle her face in his large hands. She softly shook her head.  
>"No."<br>"Kate, if there is anything…"  
>"Shhh" she shut him up.<br>He nodded. This wasn't the time or place to talk about this.

She brought her fingers back to his hair to pull his face closer to hers.  
>"I love you" she whispered, another single tear spilling quietly from her lashes.<br>"I love you, too" he said. "So much" And their lips met in a tender kiss, their eyes slipping shut to sink into the feeling.

"This was the best sex I ever had" she whispered gleefully when they parted. His smile was genuine and not as cockily proud as she had assumed.

He trailed his lips from the corner of her mouth to her ear.

"You have no idea."


	3. Fundamental Questions

**A/N:** _A big thank you and hug to my beta Tycho, who is always reliable, very good and very fast. _

_I know you all love the smut, but this chapter actually has some plot in it. Get used to it. The prologue is over and the actual story begins. Mind the time gap, please. __And of course, Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>MAY 26th – FUNDAMENTAL QUESTIONS<strong>

"Are you sure you don't want to go to college here in New York?" Rick tried again half-heartedly, picking at his breakfast bacon, not really in the mood for food.

"Dahh, we alweady tahked aboub wif!" Alexis lectured him around a large mouthful of her smiley pancakes. She swallowed and pointed her fork at him. "Don't try to guilt me into staying, it's not going to work. Besides, I already accepted Princeton."

"I know, honey. But it's not going to stop me from trying. And missing you," he pouted and she leaned up to sweetly kiss his cheek.

"You're going to be fine, dad. It's not even a two-hour drive. It's New Jersey, not Narnia."

He sighed and grabbed his coffee mug, sipping the hot liquid that tasted almost as bitter as his melancholy mood.

"Good morning you two," Kate greeted joyfully as she descended the stairs and Rick couldn't help but smile into his mug. She approached the Castle duo, pausing to take in the mess Rick had made in the usually tidy kitchen. She could tell he had gone all-out with his breakfast extravaganza.

"What are you up to?" she asked and grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate, her face radiating energy, her hair still damp from the shower she had just taken; Without him, much to his dismay.

"Oh, I was just asking dad when he's going to ask you to move in" Alexis chattered freely.

Rick choked and barely managed to keep from sputtering his coffee across the kitchen isle, but to his surprise Kate gave him a cheeky grin. He had anticipated a horrified expression instead, but was glad that he'd been wrong.

"Well? When _are_ you going to ask me?" she asked innocently, both eyebrows elegantly elevated at his surprised face.

When he found no words, she simply turned around and smiled genuinely at Alexis. "So, how are your Graduation plans going?"

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><p>Twenty minutes later, Kate Beckett stood in front of Richard Castle's safe, waiting for him to come and open it so she could get her gun and badge back. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, her fingers drumming an impatient rhythm.<p>

"Castle! I'll be late for work!" she called through the loft, yelling to make sure that it reached him, wherever the hell he was.

"Open it yourself, I'm cleaning up!" he yelled back, the combination of the early morning and his daughter's upcoming move making him grumpy.

"Castle! Get your lazy ass over here and open this damn thing! You were the one who put my stuff in there! I can't open it and I don't-"

"41319!" he interrupted her and she could tell from the volume of his voice that he was coming closer.

He appeared in the doorframe a second later, a wet sponge in his blue plastic gloved hands, dripping soapy bubbles onto the floor.

"The code is 41319. You can open it yourself" he told her, not yelling anymore, but still pissed, his exhaustion and sulkiness written all over his face.

Kate uncrossed her arms, ran one hand through her wavy hair.

"Rick, this is your safe. You don't have to tell me-"

"I just did."

They were silent for a moment, a wordless staring contest going on between them. Kate broke first, and Rick was glad she did. She crossed her arms again, but this time it wasn't a defiant gesture at all. She looked small all of a sudden, insecure as her gaze dropped to the floor.

"That's my badge number" she said, not even sure herself whether it was an accusation, question or compliment. Rick sighed.

"Yes, it is."

Their eyes met and he couldn't for the life of him read her expression. Then she turned around, typed in the code and opened the safe. Her badge and gun were lying right up front, on top of a stash of papers and envelopes. Two bundles of money lay in the back, along with several boxes. Kate suppressed her curiosity and simply retrieved her police gear before firmly closing the heavy door.

"Thank you" she said as she found his eyes again, her anger now completely gone, but a hint of insecurity remaining. He smiled at her and she realized that he was going to drop the issue for now.

"No problem" he said and shrugged, causing another bunch of bubbles to sink to the floor, and she suddenly noticed how ridiculous he looked. She walked over and stopped right in front of him. He reached for her with his soapy hands, but she immediately pulled away.

"Nu-uh! No. I really need to leave now."

He pouted, pushing his lower lip out and over-dramatically batting his eyelashes. "Just a little hug?" he pleaded and reached out for her again.

"Rick!" she laughed and skillfully evaded his arms. "You're getting me wet!" she exclaimed, only realizing what she had just said when he wriggled his eyebrows at her and stepped closer once more. Grabbing his elbows and pushing them outwards, she allowed him to advance on her.

"Don't!" she tried for one last time, but they were both grinning when he leaned down and her lips moved upwards towards his.

"I'll see you at the precinct?" she whispered, his breath on her skin causing butterflies to tingle in her body even after all this time.

"Of course" he answered, just a millisecond before she kissed him, just long enough and deep enough to make him miss her desperately when she pulled away and dashed for the door.

He snorted at the puddle on the floor, smiling a silly smile to himself.

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><p>As Kate made her way to the precinct on her own, Rick finished cleaning up the kitchen and thought about how far they had come. Six months. Six long, amazing, nerve-wrecking, fun and joyful months had passed since that day back in November when she'd looked at him and said "I love you".<p>

Half a year of trying to kiss her in the break room, of Esposito and Ryan grinning at them like crazy fools when they arrived at crime scenes together, of raised eyebrows from Lanie when they didn't. Half a year of movie nights with Alexis, cuddling on the couch next to her, their hands doing mostly inappropriate things beneath the throw blanket while Kate was trying to keep a straight face.

And now he was going to ask her to move in.

And she hadn't even flinched when Alexis had brought it up. It was a giant step for her, seeing that only in January, something as seemingly small as a toothbrush had been enough to cause a stir.

And yes, they still didn't talk about a lot of stuff, and they were both terrible at apologizing, but in some weird, chaotic, and rarely perfect way, they worked.

She still flinched when her name appeared in the papers, she still got angry at him when he smiled cheekily into a paparazzo's camera, and even angrier when he didn't, because then the papers started speculating about why he was looking so sad.

When a case was too rough, or he'd teased and joked too much for her liking, she slept at her own place for a couple of nights and ignored his calls. Sometimes she slept at her own place, even when she wasn't mad at him, or overly exhausted. Sometimes she just needed space and silence and room to clear her head.

He did too. Then he locked himself into his study and wrote until dawn.

And sometimes he got angry at her, when she didn't call after coming back from a takedown that he couldn't be at because he had to pick up Alexis. Or when a bullet scratched her shoulder and he had to find out while undressing her, because she had told everyone at the precinct that they would be on desk duty for a week if they told him about it.

But still, they worked. At the end of the day, or week, or month, they smiled at each other, rolled their eyes, sometimes even talked about it, and all was well. Their time together was spectacular, even the most simplest of evenings never felt boring.

And the make-up sex was probably worth even the biggest of fights.

So when his kitchen looked acceptable again, and he had checked out his hair in the mirror and fussed about it until he felt okay with it, Richard Castle grabbed his wallet and keys and took a cab to Tiffany's.


	4. Daydreams

**A/N:** _My laptop broke down. I really wanted to have this chapter done for you earlier, but my brother's old computer didn't even have Word installed. Now it does, so here is the new chapter. Thank you for your wonderful reviews, I really appreciate them. I will reply to them soon. In the meanwhile, enjoy Chapter 4: Daydreams._

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><p>While Rick had been cleaning the kitchen like the good Manhattanite housewife he was, calmly recollecting and examining his relationship with Kate, the detective had rushed to the precinct, her brain fuming like the tailpipes in downtown traffic.<p>

Butterflies and giddy, uncharacteristically girly squeals were taking turns with horrified expressions and very unladylike expletives.

"When _are_ you going to ask me to move in?" she could hear her own sugary sweet voice mocking her.  
>Was she ready to move in with Richard Castle? Would she ever be ready?<p>

"Shit!" she cursed and slammed on the brake when a red van suddenly swerved into her lane right in front of her. The BMW behind her honked its horn, but Kate released a deep breath. Only a millisecond later and this would have been her first car accident in eight years.

"Rick you idiot, what are you doing to me?" she murmured to herself, looking into her rearview mirror and gazing off into the distance when she stopped at a red light.

He was always on her mind. When he was with her at the precinct, he was hard to ignore. When they were together in private, he was even _harder _to ignore. And Kate Beckett hated admitting this, even to herself, but when he wasn't there she missed him.

And although he had a great body and was extraordinary in bed, she knew that she'd be lying to herself if she said that the sex was all she was missing.

She wasn't used to sleeping alone anymore. The bed was cold and empty without him, so she only ever slept well when he was with her. Still, she forced herself to go home to her own apartment every once in a while when it all became too much, or when she was so pissed at him that she feared she would kill him in her sleep if he came near her.

But every time she tried to distance herself from him, she missed him. She missed the smell of good food and occasionally burnt things from the kitchen. She missed his crazy theories when he wasn't working next to her, no matter the hour. Even when she was just reading a book on her couch, she missed his warmth next to her, his hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on her thigh. She missed the sound of his keyboard whe-

Another honk.

The light had turned to green.

"Fuck!" she muttered and stepped on the accelerator. She slowed down again when she had passed the intersection, and sighed.  
>The police-trained behavioral analysis part of her brain categorized the sound as 'exasperated woman in love'. In the closed confines of her car, Kate allowed a small smile to break free.<p>

She was ready.

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><p>The precinct was relatively quiet when she finally arrived. Ryan greeted her with a dreamy smile and a friendly nod of his head. Red lipstick stuck to his upper lip and the sight immediately brightened her mood. Smirking silently to herself, she settled down at her desk and looked around for the missing member of her team.<p>

"Where's Esposi-" she asked, but as the words left her mouth, she already spotted him hurrying out of the elevator. "-to" she finished and knitted her brows.

"Yo, boss! I'm really sorry I'm late" he excused himself, ripping his jacket off his well-built chest and throwing it angrily onto his desk.  
>"What happened?" Ryan questioned, throwing a package of gummibears at the back of his partner's head. Esposito caught it as it bounced from his neck.<br>"Those douche noozles down at the 40th precinct ticketed Lanie for parking in front of my apartment!" he complained.  
>"Aww, defending your girl's honor?" Ryan teased and grinned widely, looking just the tiniest bit crazy with Jenny's lipstick still sticking to his skin.<p>

"I still don't get why she doesn't want to move in together until we're married" the Latino detective muttered and turned his tired eyes towards his girlfriend's best friend.  
>"Just marry her, then it's not a problem anymore" Kate suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.<p>

Esposito's expression turned a little more serious. "I will. I'll ask her this weekend."  
>Kate was stunned speechless for a second.<p>

"But please don't tell her anything, okay? Please" he pleaded with her, his chocolate eyes larger than usual, the tough macho suddenly just as frightened as any other fool in love. She smiled.

"Of course not, Javi" she said, having mercy with the man she considered a dear friend. "I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

He smiled back at her. "I hope so, too."

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><p>The smell of Chinese food wafted through the air around noon, pulling the entire precinct floor out of its work-daze.<p>

Beckett, Esposito, Ryan, Velazquez and three other officers all piled into the break room, following Castle's swinging step and his precious load, drawn like moths to the flame.

Twenty minutes later, the food was gone and the break room looked as if a bomb had hit. As everyone else went back to work, Rick started cleaning up the trash and Kate stayed in her lounging position on the couch, too full to move. The last piece of crispy duck disappeared in her open mouth, accompanied by the sound a cat made when she was content with her life.

And although it broke her own rules of PDA at the precinct, Kate quickly leaned up to Rick and lightly kissed his cheek as she left him alone to pluck the rice out of every tiny corner.

As he sat down in his usual chair next to her desk ten minutes later, silently watching as she worked through her piles, Rick allowed his mind to wander.

When you were constantly chasing suspects in high heels, knocking perps out cold or ducking from gunfire, you had to be on top of your game. Kate Beckett was definitely on top of her game. Rick had been pleased, though not surprised, when he'd found out that her physical fitness extended to her sex life as well.

She was insatiable.

Leaning forward in his chair to catch more of her enticing cherry smell, he thought back to that night when he'd woken up at 4 in the morning only to discover that he was tied to the bed.

"Good morning, Mr. Castle" her sultry voice had greeted him and for a second, he hadn't known whether he was awake or still dreaming.  
>"Hu-Hello" he had croaked, her nails raking up his torso as she had moved to straddle him. His hands had struggled with their bindings, but he hadn't been able to free himself. She had smiled at him, not trying to hide that she was proud of her handiwork.<br>"Did I hurt you?" she had purred and his eyes had almost bulged out of his head.  
>"No" he had whispered, swallowing thickly.<br>She had teased him relentlessly, bringing her mouth closer to his, but not quite close enough. He had wanted nothing more than to be able to lean up, capture those remarkable lips and…

"Rick!" she startled him and he almost fell out of his chair. Blinking rapidly to clear his head, he realized that in his state of daydream, he had inched his chair closer to her desk, leaning forward with slightly parted lips.

He didn't know which one of them looked more horrified, him or Kate. He was going to open his mouth and excuse himself when she stopped him with a raised hand and a look that said 'Don't you dare say anything'.

He watched in scared silence as she grabbed a pen and scribbled something into her notebook. After a long minute of angry writing, she ripped the page off and neatly folded it. He still hadn't moved from the spot where she stopped him, but now it was her who scooted closer. Her gaze flickered to his lips and darkened, and he was about to do something stupid and embarrass them in front of the whole precinct when she reached out and slipped the folded piece of paper into his chest pocket. Patting his chest lightly, a mysterious smile teasing the edges of her mouth, she turned around and went back to work.

It took Rick almost an entire minute until he moved out of his stupor. Smiling to himself, he leaned back in his chair and watched her work.

He waited_ almost_ two minutes until his curiosity got the better of him and he discreetly took the folded page out of his pocket. He looked left and right like a thief in a shopping mall, afraid to get caught, but everyone around was working.

His hands almost trembling with juvenile excitement, he ceremoniously unfolded the note.

The unmanly giggle that escaped him when he read it made more than just Kate's head turn his way. Esposito simply shrugged his shoulders and went back to his paperwork, but Ryan grinned at him with a slightly wondrous expression.

"What is it, Honeymilk?" Kate snapped him out of his staring, and the Irish detective quickly averted his gaze.

She narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend's happy form.

"Castle!" she scolded him under her breath. "Could you tone it down?" she pressed out between clenched teeth. It had no effect on him whatsoever; he simply refolded the note and pressed it lovingly to his heart.  
>"Castle, wipe that grin off your face or I take it back!" she threatened, and his face immediately fell.<br>"Okay" he mouthed and slipped the note back into his pocket.

_You are incorrigible._

_Dinner at my place, 8 o clock.  
>Bring Wine.<br>PS: Tell Alexis not to wait up._


	5. Dinner

**A/N:** _My laptop is still out of order and this one is a pain in the behind, therefore your replies will have to wait a little longer. Please know that I appreciate each and every one of your reviews and that it really means a lot to me that so many people are enjoying this story._

_A huge welcome to everyone that has joined us just now, and a special shoutout to all the lovely people that read this story first and then decided to take on Ignition!_

_Now go ahead and enjoy Chapter 5: Dinner._

* * *

><p>Two minutes before 8 Rick stood in front of Kate's apartment door, not only carrying her favorite wine, but also flowers and a shopping bag. When she spotted the red and orange chrysanthemums through her peep hole, she turned away from the closed door and took a deep breath to steady herself.<p>

Six months and she still wanted to squeal like a giddy teenager every time he brought her flowers.

Looking down her body, she examined the green T-shirt and short sweat pants she was wearing, wishing she had put on something more seductive after her shower. Returning to the peep hole, she noticed that he had showered and changed as well, losing the tie and suit for a lighter jacket and jeans.

"Red chrysanthemums," she wondered out loud before she opened the door with a dazzling smile. Did he pick them because of their beauty, or because of their meaning, Kate mused as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

She was sure that he would have grabbed her and given her a proper kiss, but his hands were full and he was having enough problems balancing his bearings as it was.

His mouth, however, was unoccupied.

"You look beautiful, Kate" he told her in that irresistible tone she knew all too well. She took the wine from his hand, muttered a "Thank you" and then used the search for a bottle opener as an excuse to turn around and hide her blush.

He found the white, artsy vase in her cupboard as if it was his home, not hers. When she grabbed it from him to add the water, he shed his jacket and turned towards her stove.

"Are you using me for my cooking skills again, detective?" he asked as he inspected the empty bowls and raw ingredients spread across her kitchen surfaces.

"I already started the water for the pasta" she defended herself, finding a spot on her book-clattered stairs for the beautiful flowers.

"I take that as a yes" Rick commented and expertly swung her dish towel over his shoulder.

* * *

><p>"Does this taste good?" he asked 15 minutes later and put a spoon of marinara to her lips.<p>

She tasted the delicate sauce, let it swirl around her sensitive taste buds and then approved of it with a sound of delicious pleasure and a nod. She leaned up to him, her bare feet lifting from the floor until she was on her toes, to give him a quick kiss. She wrapped her arms around his midriff as he stirred the sauce and probed at the noodles. His free hand came up around her shoulder.

"Clingy today, detective?" he teased lightheartedly and regretted it when she immediately tried to pull away. He had to tighten his grip on her to pull her back.

"Stay" he murmured, putting down the wooden spoon. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

He shut off the stove and turned around to face her.

"You know I love it when you're able to relax like this" he said and kissed her forehead. She relaxed a little against him and he deemed it safe to smile at her. She shyly smiled back and he didn't want to disturb their peaceful evening by starting an argument, so he changed the topic.

"Do you want to have ice cream for dessert? I bought Karamel Sutra" he proposed and wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. Her smile turned smug and her fingers dug more firmly into his hips. Never tease a tease.

"What if I want to have something else for dessert?" she husked and purposely flicked her tongue out to wet her lips. The cheshire cat couldn't hold a candle to his grin, but the kiss he pressed to her lips was short and not as overwhelmingly passionate as the gleam in his eyes had predicted.

"Who are you and what have you done to Kate Beckett?" he joked when they had pulled apart.

She patted his cheek.  
>"Let's eat."<p>

* * *

><p>A little while later, they were sitting on her couch, eating ice cream despite her promise of better things they could be having for dessert.<br>"So Esposito is really going to propose?" Rick asked and helped himself to another spoon of heaven. Kate swallowed her own mouthful and nodded her head.

"Lanie won't move in with him until they're married. I think she really just wants to know how much he wants her and whether he really means it."

"Opf coursh he meansh it!" Rick exclaimed and only then took his spoon out of his mouth. "He's Javier Esposito! They have been dating longer than we have, why wouldn't he mean it?" he said and placed his bowl on the coffee table. "They love each other! Why the hell shouldn't it work out?"

Kate raised her eyebrows.

"You're the one with the two failed marriages, you tell me!"

The moment it was out of her mouth, she realized what a low blow that had been. She saw the second it hit his face, saw his smile drop from his eyes and then his mouth. Her hands were on his cheeks, her chest pressed to his chest before he had a chance to say something. "I'm sorry. God, Rick, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I only...I'm sorry."

She held her breath when he closed his eyes, a sharp vertical line digging into his forehead as he thought, processed and remained silent. He opened them after full 20 seconds, blinked at her with his blue, troubled eyes.

"Tell me you don't think that," he murmured. "Please tell me that you know how much I want this, how much I mean it, how much I love you."

One of her hands on his face slid down to his neck, his shoulder. "Of course. Of course I know. Rick, I really didn't mean it like that."

She held his gaze, willing him to see the truth in her own. He pushed forward, roughly found her mouth with his, his tongue demanding, needy. She tasted the caramel ice cream on his lips and the anger in his kiss. She knew it wasn't an anger directed at her, but rather at himself. He wasn't to blame for the failing of his marriages, or at least not solely, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself, especially for the second one. It wasn't his ego, his own need for a loving wife, that caused this anger. It rooted deeper; in a desire to give his daughter a mother, and in a fear of not being good enough to ever have a functioning relationship, a fear she understood too well.

His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer and she moved into his lap without resistance. He bit down on her lower lip, both of them groaning, her hips pressing against him urgently. He broke the kiss and she took the opportunity to get some air, her breasts brushing against his chest with every heavy breath.

"Do you agree with her?" Rick panted and Kate squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, but still had no idea what he was talking about.  
>"What? Who?" she questioned, feeling dumb and confused and so very aroused all at the same time.<p>

"Lanie" he pressed out and found a place at the hem of her T-shirt to suck on. She hissed and ground down on him.

"Agree with what?" she muttered, but pulled on his hair and sealed his lips with hers, barring him from answering her question. His tongue brushed hers like his hot fingers brushed against her back, his hand slipping under her shirt effortlessly.

The sound that spilled from her bruised lips as he pulled away was half pleasure, half protest.

"Get...getting married before... before moving together" Rick gasped against her neck. Her slender fingers had his first five buttons undone before he even finished the sentence. Their eyes met when she moved to kiss him again. Kate paused with just half an inch of room between them.

"No" she answered and that seemed to settle the issue for now.


	6. Twist

**A/N:** _I still haven't answered your reviews and I feel terrible for it. Don't let that discourage you from writing them, though :) I really do appreciate every single one. Especially since my laptop still isn't working and my mood could use a lift. _

_This chapter is a little bit different than the other ones. You would do me a huge favor if you told me what you think of it and whether you'd like me to continue down that path or ignore it in the future._

_Enjoy Chapter 6: Twist!_

* * *

><p>She woke on his chest, her cheek pressed into his warm neck, his breath ruffling her hair. She knew without looking that her alarm would ring in two minutes. Giving herself another couple of seconds to fully wake up, she pressed a soft kiss to his bare skin, smiling. Carefully untangling herself, she turned off her alarm so not to wake him, and slipped into her robe. Despite her quiet movements, he was already stirring when she reached her bathroom door.<p>

"Where you goin'?" he slurred and she turned around, taking in the sight of him, sprawled in her bed the way she had left him, his eyes half-closed and his voice gruff with sleep. She couldn't help but crawl back into bed to hover above him. He grinned up at her and she bit her lip, her nude body peeking out of the silky robe and taunting him in the dark room. He groaned and reached up to cup her curves, but she swatted his hands away.

"I have to go to work, Mister. You can stay here a little longer, take your time," she smiled, her fingers fluttering across his pectoral muscles.  
>"Here in your bed?" he asked, lazily finding her hips, his eyelids drooping.<br>"Here in my bed" she confirmed and leaned in to give him a slow kiss. Before his grip on her could tighten, she was out of the bed again.  
>"Lock up when you leave" she said, the bathroom door closing on her saucy smile.<p>

When she reappeared five minutes later, he was pulling on last night's jeans, clumsily bustling about her room.  
>"You could have gone back to sleep" she commented, but he was looking at her with a warmth in his eyes that made her insides melt.<br>"Now I'm already up" he rumbled, grabbed his shirt and stepped right into her personal space. His free hand ran through her dark hair, smiles tugging at both of their mouths.

"Love you" he whispered and her smile broke free, making her glow from within.  
>"You too" she answered and captured his mouth with her soft lips, her tongue flicking out to tease his.<p>

"Take care, chica" he said when they broke apart. Her hand swept down his well-built torso as she stepped away.  
>"See you soon, Javi."<p>

* * *

><p>Kate's phone rang just as Rick handed her the first cup of coffee of the day. They had a body near their end of Central Park, a female in her thirties.<br>"We'll be there in twenty" she said.

When the detective didn't hang up right away, she knew that there was something else going on that he hadn't told her.  
>"What is it, Esposito?"<p>

"She is one of us, Beckett."

Her stomach dropped. "Who is it?"

"Emily Holmes from the 19th precinct."

She let the news sink in for a second, but said nothing about it. She was pretty sure that she hadn't known the detective, but cases like these hit close to home anyway.  
>"We'll be there in fifteen" she said simply and hung up.<p>

"What did he say?" Rick asked, his brow furrowed. He didn't have to hear what Esposito had said to know that something was wrong. It was written clearly into every line of her face.

"It's a cop" Kate answered, her clinical inflection a mystery to him, giving nothing away. She didn't give him time to ponder it and instead grabbed her coffee and headed towards her jacket.  
>"Come on, let's go."<p>

* * *

><p>He let his knuckles brush hers as they walked down the street, half a block from their crime scene, and was pleased when she laced their fingers together. His entire body tingled softly at the feeling of how perfectly they fit. Her hands were soft and warm in his and he held on to them like a life line.<p>

The sky was an almost fluorescent blue, a promise of summer, the green of Central Park an invitation.

They didn't know what they would have to face in a minute, but the simple contact assured them both that they were going to work through it. The fact that she allowed this public display more often now made him smile. They had made so much process in the last months. Maybe it was indeed time for the next step in their relationship.

She dropped his hand when they passed under the yellow tape, but almost wanted to grab it again when she saw the look on the surrounding officers' faces and her friend Lanie crouching in a pool of blood. The good weather suddenly seemed to be mocking them, the colours too bright, the birds too loud.

"What have we got, Doctor Parish?" she asked, forcing her voice to sound professional, like the distance she was determined to keep up between her and Rick now that they were here.

"Detective Emily Holmes, 35, five shots to the chest, small caliber" the M.E. told her. This was no time for a 'Good morning, honey'.  
>Beckett took in the short blonde hair, the pretty, young face, the casual clothes, the Converse shoes. The blood. The grey eyes, opened in shock and frozen in horror.<p>

"TOD?"

Lanie looked up from her blood-smeared gloves, sadness swimming in her eyes. "Body temp and rigor mortis indicate between 3 and 5 a.m. this morning. I can narrow it down once I get her to the lab."

Kate nodded. Lanie's gaze stayed fixed on her.  
>"I met her a couple of times" she said softly. "She was a great cop. Very smart, very strong. Five shots, that's..." she trailed off, tried to control the emotions in her voice. Something flashed across her dark eyes.<br>"Let's find this sonovabitch."


	7. Misunderstandings

"It could have been you, you know?" Rick told Kate quietly as they left the crime scene and headed back towards her Crown Vic.

"But it wasn't, Castle. I'm fine" she said, sounding annoyed rather than worried. He was back to being 'Castle', which meant that she didn't want to deal with this right now.

"We don't even know whether her death had anything to do with her job, maybe it was just a coincidence" she waved off. He wanted to tell her that he didn't believe in coincidence, but he let it go. They could talk about it later.

"So… Detective Holmes, huh?" he changed the topic as they reached her car. She raised an eyebrow at him, not knowing what he was getting at, but already irritated by his too-chipper tone.

"I bet ten bucks she has a pet named Watson or a male relative called Sherlock!" he grinned and Kate rolled her eyes.

She kept the smile to herself as she sat down in the driver's seat. He didn't need to know that she'd been waiting for that comment ever since Lanie had introduced their victim.

* * *

><p>Kate was glad that Montgomery had taken it upon himself to perform the obligatory heartbreaking phone call to Emily Holmes' father in New Jersey.<p>

This was a Cop Killer, the rules were different. Phone records and Financials took four hours to arrive, instead of four days, because nobody needed to be told twice that this case was top priority. A certain air of concentrated determination hung over the precinct and everyone worked twice as hard. The murder board filled up slowly with evidence and suspect lists, too many names and not enough.

They would be going through every single case that Detective Holmes had worked: Every victim's disappointed family member on any of her unsolved cases was as much a suspect as every ex-con she had helped put behind bars.

But they had no place to start, nothing specific to look for, so the search for a lead was nothing more than the proverbial search for the needle in the haystack.

The Captain from the 19th precinct had called, offered support, resources, manpower, anything they needed. Montgomery took the additional detectives, glad to have more people plow through the paperwork, even though it didn't provide them with the miracle they seemed to need to find what they were looking for.

Kate was on her sixth cup of coffee, her eyes tired from too many numbers, too many names, her head heavy with useless information, her ears red from too many telephone calls.

As much as she wanted to catch that sonovabitch killer, she just wanted to go home to the loft and fall into bed.  
>Yes, the loft. It felt like home. And it had for a while now.<p>

Before she could dwell on the thought, her desk phone rang. It was Lanie.  
>"Please tell me you've got something" Kate pleaded, letting her head fall into her free hand, her hair cascading down to her desk.<p>

"That sounds as if you haven't found anything yet?" Lanie concluded and Kate could practically see her friend's eyebrow rise up.

"The financials are clean, her colleagues can't think of any recent incidents on any of her cases, no death threats. Her father said she was single, living alone. So far, we have no indications whether the crime was related to her job or her personal life."

"I may have something. No luck on the bullets though, they are 6mm Winchesters."

Kate let out a sigh. Those were frequently used with sporting rifles and could be bought everywhere.

"I can narrow down the time of death to between 4:15 and 5am, if that helps you" Lanie offered.

"We don't even know yet what she was doing in the park at that time" Kate said, hating the fact that they really didn't have anything figured out yet.  
>The Medical Examiner continued.<p>

"I found nothing out of the ordinary in her system, so the five shots are definitely COD. They were fired without interruptions, no pattern, no anything. There is no bruising, no signs of struggle, so she must have either known her killer, or not expected anything. Good news is that he left DNA nonetheless."

Kate lifted her head from her hand, listening with newfound hope. "How so?"

"He spit on her. When she was lying on the ground, most probably already dead, he spit on her."

Good news seemed to be an understatement. With the way this investigation was going so far, this was great news.

"I'll run it through the system. That way we can at least rule out all ex-convicts that might have wanted revenge" Lanie provided.

"Unless we find reasonable doubt that the killer may have been working with a partner, DNA on the vic is going to be enough to lock him up. I'll find you a suspect, you'll tell me whether he did it" Kate concluded, her tired lethargy leaving her, now that she had something to fall back on.

"Thanks, Lanie. That really helps."

She had barely said her goodbye and put down the phone, when Esposito came barging down the hallway.

"We got something, Beckett! The vic's neighbor just called. She says there's someone at Holmes' door, trying to break in. Neighbor says she saw the guy before, thinks it's Holmes' ex boyfriend. They had a huge fight two weeks ago."

A tight smile made its way onto Kate's worn-out face.

"Bring him in."

* * *

><p>The observation room was quiet. The light from Interrogation 1 illuminated their figures only dimly through the one-way mirror, outlining their black silhouettes like cardboard cut-outs.<p>

The silence was comfortable between them, even though it was pretty clear by now that the ex Ryan and Esposito were interrogating was not their guy. He claimed that he was only trying to break into the victim's apartment because he wanted to get his stuff back. Emily was supposed to meet him this afternoon, but she never showed up, so he took the matter into his own hands. Kate was pretty sure that the man's reaction wasn't an act when Ryan told him that the detective had been killed.

Kate sighed. They were back to square one.

"You want coffee?" she asked quietly and Rick turned away from the glass. Half of their faces dipped into shadows, he offered her a small smile.

"Sure" he said and followed her out of the darkness and into the brighter break room.

Rick had been fiddling with the box in his suit jacket all day. As he closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the break room for at least a couple of minutes, he took a deep breath and pulled it out of its hiding place. He walked over to the coffee machine, resting his hip against the counter, gently setting the box down in front of him.

Kate gasped at the sight of the Tiffany ribbon. Rick smiled tentatively and wrapped his hand around it, only to scoot it along the counter towards his girlfriend. He left it right in front of her and withdrew his outstretched arm.

"Rick!" she whispered disbelievingly. He let his smile bloom until he met her eyes. They were wide in shock, but a fearful kind of shock, not the happy-surprise-shock he had hoped for. His face fell.

"Here? Like this?" she gasped in horror, her eyebrows scrunched together.

"Kate, I…"

"No" she said firmly. He closed his mouth, suddenly feeling sick.

"No, Rick. Not like this. No."

He could see the little vein on her forehead tremble, the one that always popped out when she was particularly stressed or angry. He had no idea what to answer. All his words had left him, the light in his eyes suddenly as dim as the room, the moment she had looked at him.

"Just because you've already done this twice, doesn't mean you get to skip the whole on-one-knee part" she told him firmly, and turned around on her heels, striding to the door with a mix of confidence, annoyance and badly concealed, trembling shock.

"Knee?" Rick wondered out loud, and suddenly the penny dropped.

"No, Kate! Wait! I only…" he called after her, trying to explain, but she kicked the door firmly shut.

"…I wasn't proposing, I just wanted to ask you to move in!" he confessed to the empty room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I still haven't answered your reviews. I'm a bad, bad author. I'm going to keep promising you to reply until I finally do. You'll all get cookies._  
><em>Will you leave me some more? For extra chocolate chips? Pretty please?<em>


	8. Late Nights

The icy stare Kate shot him when Rick came out of his stupor and followed her into the bullpen, was not-so-discretely telling him to back off. He just wanted to apologize, clear things up, make her understand, but the tight set of her jaw posed as an impenetrable barrier for his charm and he knew it.

She would only get angrier and he more disappointed if he started a scene in the middle of the precinct, so he forced a pleading smile onto his face and disappeared behind the metal of the elevator doors.

"Yo Beckett, where's Castle?" Esposito asked when he came out of the interrogation room with Ryan.  
>"He went home" Beckett answered, noncommittal, and Ryan simply shrugged his shoulders.<br>"Can't really blame him. The ex alibis out, it's been a stressful day, one of our own is dead and we have no leads" he counted off with his fingers.

"Thank you for summing it up, Detective Ryan" came Montgomery's strong voice from his doorway. The team turned around in synch to look at their Captain.  
>"Unfortunately, it's all true. So go back to work and find me a name so I can tell my daughter I'll be home for her birthday dinner!"<p>

And just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone again, leaving behind a tense smile on Kate's face, sympathetic towards the Captain and determined to capture the murderer.

"You heard him" Kate commanded, although the order wouldn't have been necessary.

"Yes, boss" Ryan agreed. "Back to work."

* * *

><p>By the time Rick arrived home, he had calmed down enough to control the urge to call her right away. Instead, he slumped down onto his couch, let his head roll back and closed his eyes.<p>

It wasn't unusual that they fought. In fact, it was much of who they were - their relationship was defined as much by their similar, in-sync minds as by their colliding, clashing energies - whether it showed in sexual tension or verbal fights.

Fighting didn't mean they were going to break up. Not for them. With Gina it had been like that. Fighting had always meant something was going wrong, the louder the unhappier, and more desperate. In the end - both times - their entire relationship had been based on fighting and making up, fighting even about how much they were fighting.

With Beckett, fighting meant they cared, meant they had strong points of views but were willing to think about them, to argue until they knew what they really wanted.

They never mixed personal and professional, they kept their fights on one single topic. When they fought about the victim's brother's motive, it didn't matter that Rick had once again overstepped her boundaries. They dealt with the case and once it was over, it was done with. Then they could go home and argue about Rick's inability to keep his hands to himself. They were always able to let it go afterwards, they did not bear a grudge, were no sore losers… Though sometimes, they were a little sore after making up.

They'd had quite a fight over the Thanksgiving Party. Rick's Thanksgiving Parties were usually big public shindigs with lots of high society VIPs, blonde busty bimbos and pricey, freely flowing alcohol. He usually rented a place for the weekend before Thanksgiving, had a blast, cleaned everything (including himself) up and spent the actual day with his family.

This year Alexis had suggested the Old Haunt. Kate was going to be gone with her father for the actual private party on Thanksgiving Thursday, so Rick had invited her to the public one.

That hadn't been a good idea at all. Kate had declined the invitation, at first politely, then furiously as he had insisted that she must come. He had been stoic and hard-headed, as usual, and had pressed, wanting to invite her father as well. He had meant well, coaxing and prodding and teasing to convince her, but she had exploded.

The press was all over them already and Kate really didn't feel like smiling cheesily and playing nicey-nice with the press while he signed some halfnaked naughty zombie's chest.

Her words, not his.

Thankfully, Martha had stopped them dead in their tracks before Rick had been able to start begging. A minute later and Kate would have probably started throwing things. Alexis had come up with a solution and in the end, there had been a party. With Kate and her father. At the Old Haunt. Without bimbos. But with the team from the 12th instead.

And with non-alcoholic drinks, because that had been one of the many reasons Kate had worried so much about her father coming to the party.

Communication.  
>Compromises.<br>Rick didn't need two failed marriages under his belt to know that those things were essential to any relationship. But knowing was one thing, doing a different one. And even though Rick and Kate were masters in communicating with each other without a single word...sometimes a few more words wouldn't have hurt.

"Dad?" his daughter's voice startled him out of his thoughts and he slowly opened his eyes.  
>"Hey, pumpkin" he greeted her and she leaned down to kiss his cheek. Letting her school bag fall noisily to the floor, she cuddled up to him on the couch.<p>

"Everything okay?" she asked tentatively, having spotted his desolation without hardly looking. He raised his arm and wrapped her into a side-hug.  
>"I don't know..." he answered truthfully, because Alexis could spot almost all his tells and he didn't feel like putting up the effort to lie to her.<br>"Can I help?" she offered, her flaming hair brushing his neck as she laid her head onto his shoulder.  
>"In fact - I think you might..." Rick trailed off, an idea forming in his mind.<p>

* * *

><p>Kate was really trying to concentrate on the names, dates and possible connections in her stack of police records from Emily Holmes. But how could she, when the detective had taken down a smuggler in Castle Hill Avenue? How could she concentrate on working, when the team of the 19th precinct had arrested a man called Rick Smithson? A hooker named Alexis? A bookie called Alexander?<p>

It was impossible not to think of him and his crazy proposal, when everything reminded her of him. And Kate's headache was evergrowing, so when it was close to midnight and she was sure that she would not get any more work done, she called it a day. Despite the late hour, the boys were still there, staying strong for her sake, for the case's sake, for the dead detective's sake. As Kate stood up and grabbed her coat and purse, they shared a look. She caught it.

"It's okay, guys. We're not going to get anywhere right now. Let's all get some rest."

Esposito and Ryan nodded and began collecting their spread-out papers. They wished her a good night as she headed towards the elevators. Then she was alone with her thoughts again.

Marriage. Oh god. Marrying Richard Freaking Castle.  
>What freaked her out the most was probably the fact that she wasn't freaking out as much as she thought she would. Aside from his terrible way of not-asking the question in the middle of the day, in the middle of the precinct...she would have said yes. If she was being really honest with herself, she would have said yes.<p>

Because she wanted him. She loved him. And as ludicrous as it sounded, even to her own ears, she wanted that life with him, that breakfast kiss every morning, that ride to the precinct together, that shared lunch, that nice dinner, together, at home...at their home.  
>She wanted it all.<p>

A white dress. A perfect wedding. Oh god, now she was starting to freak out. She could imagine the look on her father's face. Lanie's teary grin. Oh god. Oh god. Would Rick want kids? They had never talked about that, it had never really occured to her... A wedding. A perfect white wedding to Mister Man-Child Richard Freaking-

The ding of the elevator shook her out of her reverie and she almost stumbled over her own feet on her hasty way out. Her hands were trembling, she noticed as she pulled out her keys, so she got into her car and waited.

She wouldn't risk another almost-accident because her mind was somewhere else. She would sit here, in the parking garage of the precinct, at midnight, until her pulse had returned to a normal beat.

Oh god.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ Updates might get less in the next weeks, as my classes have started and I'm also planning on participating in NaNoWriMo...  
>I'll try my best to update as much as I can.<br>And in case you don't know yet - reviews are making me want to write. The longer the review, the more I'll write ;)_

_I hope nobody found it offensive that I used a lot of "oh god"s. I didn't mean it in a blasphemic way. It was actually the least offensive thing I could come up with. :P_

_Have a wonderful week and an awesome Demons episode,_

_Lina  
><em>


	9. Dancing

Kate had only left the precinct five minutes ago when her cop senses began to tingle. Looking into her rear view mirror, she noticed a black van behind her, blending into the night, the New York city lights reflecting on its polished surface.

She took a left turn and the van was still there. She took another left, swerved into a different lane between two yellow taxi cabs, but the van followed.

Could she risk driving to Rick's loft? If someone was really following her, would she put him into danger? Kate tried to take her exhaustion into consideration and realized that she was probably just freaking out unnecessarily, so she took a deep breath and stayed on her route.

By the time she arrived at the loft, she was clutching the gun at her hip with trembling hands. But she couldn't spot the van anymore, so she had probably really just overreacted. She opened her car door quickly and walked into the building with a confident, fast stride, relieved when she couldn't hear footsteps behind her. Keeping her hand on her gun, she tried to calm her fluttering nerves, the cop killer running around not helping at all with her resolve to seperate her personal from her professional life.

At Rick's door, she froze. It was open. Just a tiny slit, possibly from failing to correctly lock it, but nonetheless. Kate drew her gun.

"Castle?" she yelled into the apartment, pushing the door open with her foot. "Alexis? Are you alright? Is anyone here?" Her left hand was having a hard time steadying the fist with her gun.

"NYPD!" she yelled again, completely stepping into the pitch-black loft.

That was when she heard the music. The soft, gentle strings of a violin, a melancholic double bass, emotional cello lines and finally Sinatra's powerful vibrato. A second step brought the living room into her sight, and the flickering candle light made her release the breath she had been holding.

Rose petals. There were rose petals on the floor, red and violet and white ones, swaying through the aparment thanks to the gentle summer breeze coming from the opened window to her right. She lowered her gun.

And then Rick came out of his office, a timid smile gracing his features, the flickering light softening the lines of his face.

"What is this?" she asked, not sceptical, but thouroughly surprised.

"An apology" he said and stepped closer, almost slipping on a velvety rose petal. Her heart thumped louder as he approached, his hand sliding into his coat pocket and retrieving the white box. She gasped but he held up his free hand.

"Don't freak out! Please" he pleaded and she pressed her trembling lips together, giving him a cautious nod.

"I didn't want to marry you..." he started and a thousand thoughts raced through her head. She had no idea which one to focus on first.  
>"What?" was all she could come up with and he gulped as he realized how that had sounded.<p>

Words were not doing a good job for him today, so he simply showed her.

He flicked the box open and revealed a freshly cut key on a silver, polished chain, a little badge and a tiny pair of handcuffs nestled beside a slightly larger oval pendant. She held her breath and reached out, and he let her take the key chain out of the box. Her fingers skimmed across the locket, the word 'Always' engraved delicately into the silver.

"In the break room. I wasn't proposing" he explained as she smiled in wonder at the charm, the warm candle light reflecting off its surface and marking their upper bodies with small spots of flickering brightness.  
>"But now you are?"<p>

It was a question. And not a scared, overwhelmed one. Just a simple question.

He stepped closer still, offering her the box so she could drop the key back into it.  
>"No. I'm apologizing."<p>

"Apologising for what exactly? Just so we get it right this time."

"I'm apologizing because...God, Kate, we're so terrible at communicating! It was stupid of me to ask you in the break room. Or…not ask you."

She gave him a soft smile that took him by surprise.  
>"It was stupid of me to jump to conclusions. I mean, just because you were handing me a Tiffany box in a closed room with that heartfelt look on your face, doesn't mean you were necessarily proposing."<p>

He didn't laugh. Couldn't yet, not when he wasn't sure that she wasn't mad at him.  
>"So we're even?"<p>

She nodded.

"And we're good?"

She nodded again, accompanied it with a dazzling smile.

"So we can pretend it never happened?" he asked cautiously, gauging her face for any kind of reaction.

She thought for a second, still smiling but not as blindingly wide as before. "You're not taking it back, are you?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out.  
>"I…uhhh…Can I ask you again in a couple of days? Get it right this time?"<p>

"Which of the two questions are you going to ask?" she said bluntly and he closed the lid and let the box disappear in his pocket once more.

"Which one would you like me to ask?" he countered. She found his hands with hers and drew him closer.  
>"It doesn't matter" she whispered and let her fingers trail up his arms, locking them behind his neck.<br>"The answer is going to be yes."

She closed the distance between their lips before he could answer, his mouth falling open to speak, but instead connecting with hers, hot and wet and tasting too good to be true. He tried to keep the kiss soft and gentle, even though he wanted to latch onto her and devour her until the desire in her eyes burned as brightly as the candles in the room. When her fingers slid into the short hair at the nape of his neck and her teeth closed around his bottom lip, he allowed himself the luxury of groaning and digging his hands more firmly into her hips.

She pulled away all too soon, panting and pressing her glowing cheek into the nook of his shoulder. Their personal soundtrack changed to "Wonderful tonight" and before either of them had realized it, they were gently swaying to the soft music, not so much dancing as gliding through the room.

"So..." Rick started and she could hear his smile in the way this one word sounded. "You are agreeing to someday agree to marry me?" he prodded and she grinned, barely refraining from rolling her eyes.

"We're engaged to be engaged?" he cued and she laughed, happily, freely, unrestrained. Their eyes met, pure emotions making them shine, their pupils large in the dark room. He watched her gaze flicker down to his lips and a rush of blood made his nerve ends tingle, becoming aware of her proximity, about Kate Beckett wanting him. Wanting to move in with him. Marry him.

All of a sudden it really hit him and he couldn't help but lean forward to brush his lips softly against hers. She wanted to marry him. His tongue teased her bottom lip and she responded by pressing her slim body more firmly into his. She wanted to marry him! The warm summer air and the rose petals in the loft didn't smell nearly as enticing as her.

Before he could lose himself completely and forget about the fact that his daughter was upstairs, quite possibly spying at the doorsteps right this very moment, he eased away from her sinful lips.

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and began to idly trace patterns on her back. Her muscles warmed and softened under his touch as they started to sway again.

"I have a secret" he whispered and was delighted that she did not tense like she would have some months ago. Maybe she still heard the smile in his voice.

"What is it?" she asked from where she was pressed against his chest. One of his hands went up to brush against the back of her neck, sliding into her full hair, making her shiver pleasantly.

He loved her hair. He loved it when she pulled it up, exposing the soft skin of her long, elegant neck, daring and inviting him to touch her. He loved it when she left it down and it framed her face, tingling her shoulders with soft curls. He loved it in the morning when it was ruffled and fanned out against the pillow. He loved the cherry scent of it and the silky texture when he ran his fingers through her tresses. He had loved it when it had been short, redder than now, more perky...

He wasn't answering and the tension was killing her. She needed to know. She trusted him, but she needed to know.

He rested his cheek against her temple, his mouth right by her ear.  
>"I love you".<p>

He felt her smile in the way her arms tightened around him, in the way her breathing against his neck changed and wavered.  
>"I have a secret as well" she murmured, her lips brushing his skin.<p>

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

She let her lips wander to his chin. "I love you more."

He chuckled. "That's not possible".

"Oh it is" she defended, but he pulled back to look into her eyes.

"You really think so?"

She smiled at him, pretending to think about it, ponder her response. But then her smile turned into a smirk and she winked at him in a spontaneous outburst of teasing flirtation.

"No, I think you're pretty whipped."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I'm sorry that my updates aren't coming as frequently as usual. I will try to continue to give you at least one chapter a week, but I might not make it all the time. I've got enough work to do as it is, and my laptop is still not functioning correctly, and somehow in a crazy daze I thought it would be a cool thing to try NaNoWriMo and attempt to write 50000 words in one month. Yeah. Wish me luck._

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know it was terribly cheesy. It was partly inspired by the song "Slow dancing in a burning room" by John Mayer, I think. Thank you so much for reading!_

_Much Love,_

_Lina  
><em>


	10. Oh

**A/N:** _I still haven't answered last chapter's reviews BUT I have good news for you: People were asking for more smut. Understandable, of course. So, because I'm not one to deny my faithful readers their dearest wish: Here comes the smut. You have been warned._

* * *

><p>They had taken their dancing to the couch, trading soft kisses and murmured words. When the music faded, they had fallen asleep, Kate in Rick's lap, her head on his shoulder.<p>

Alexis woke around 3am and couldn't go back to sleep again, so she went to grab some water, and almost tripped over her own feet when she spotted her father and Kate cuddled up on the couch. With everything going on yesterday, she would have expected them to go to the bedroom and…no, she really didn't want to think about her dad in that way. Ugh, not at all.

She smiled as she stepped closer and saw the utterly blissful expressions on their sleeping faces. She scanned Kate's finger for a ring and the surroundings for the white box or the key chain her father had shown her, but couldn't spot anything. Oh well; with those smiles on their faces, Kate couldn't have said no, could she?

Alexis grinned to herself, glad that everything seemed to be turning out well. She grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and then went about the room to blow out candle after candle.

"Hey" Kate grumbled from the couch as the loft was slowly being dipped into darkness. Alexis' fiery red head swiveled around and she smiled at the black silhouette on the couch.

"Hi Kate!" she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'Okay" Kate slurred, untangling herself a little bit from Rick's grasp.  
>"Are you feeling alright? Do you need anything?" she asked in regards to the late hour.<p>

"I'm fine" Alexis answered, held up the water bottle as an explanation and stepped closer. On a whim, she sat down on the couch, put down the bottle and folded her small body next to Kate's, tucking up her legs. Their eyes met, tired but happy, the two of them sharing a comfortable smile.

"So are you going to move in now?" Alexis whispered with large, expectant eyes and Kate beamed back.

"Soon" she answered. "We kind of postponed that decision."  
>She paused with raised eyebrows, picking her next words carefully.<br>"And you'd really be okay with that?"

"Kate…" the young woman started and brought one hand to the detective's knee, the other to her arm, seeking physical contact.  
>"You're here every day as it is. You make my dad happy. You make me happy, too. I like having you here" she said and squeezed the older woman's shoulder.<p>

"Oh Alexis" Kate breathed and pulled the girl into a hug. The six months that she'd spent almost exclusively at the loft had brought the two of them closer together than either had expected.

"Besides, I'll be moving out soon and I'd like to think that someone is here to babysit dad" she joked and then laughed as her father's still form began to grumble.

"Heard that" he said sleepily and raised the hand that wasn't around Kate to rub at his eyes.

"Why are my ladies discussing this so late at night?" he asked, his voice gruff and entirely too arousing to Kate.

"Just woke up thirsty, dad" Alexis answered and gave Kate one last squeeze before she reached across her to embrace her blinking father, pulling them all into a group hug in the process.

"Go back to sleep" she instructed the adults and jumped off their laps.

"Goodnight Alexis" Kate called after the girl, who shot her a smile over her shoulder.

"Night, pumpkin" Rick rumbled and Alexis answered with her own 'Night everyone' as she reached the stairs.

"So…" Rick started as the redhead disappeared out of sight. His hand tightened around her hip.

"So" she answered and turned, falling into his embrace, her hand inching up his thigh, her open mouth finding his jaw.

"Oh…" he commented and pulled her even closer, her legs falling to his sides so that she was straddling him. With his hand at the back of her neck he fused their lips together, her tongue slipping out immediately, her hips grinding against him, the heat building fast, arising so spontaneously that the blood rushing through their bodies made them dizzy. His hands gripped her curves, groped, clutched, pressed, his hot lips moving against hers, tasting, feasting, her head spinning, reeling, aching…

The sudden burst of lust made them blind, her fingers digging into his back, her short nails stoking the fire of his arousal as she hurried to pull up his shirt, rid him and herself of anything separating their naked bodies.

"Kate" he gasped before he latched onto her warm skin, sucking on her pulse point as he fumbled with her bra clasp, distracted by her fingers at his zipper, brushing against the both of them. He sighed happily when the lacy garment fell from her skin, just as she snuck her hand into his boxers and pulled his erection free without preamble. His eyes widened, pupils dilated in the pitch-black room; only a single lit candle had remained by his office doorway, forgotten.

She pumped him once, twice, and he bit into her breast, making both of them groan. One of his hands pulled at her curls, grazing the back of her head, the other slid down, his thumb roughly pressing down on her zipper, rubbing her through her jeans.

When she heard herself starting to mewl, she grabbed his head with her free hand and pulled his face from her breast to devour him, her lips swollen against his 3-am-shadow. He was swelling too, a different part of him, throbbing in her hand, her slender fingers wrapped around him.

He had mercy with her and with himself and popped open her button, slid down her zipper in a not-so-smooth-anymore motion and practically threw her out of her lap so he could peel the tight fabric down her endless legs. She stepped out of the pants, let her panties follow and dropped to her knees, urging him to raise his hips so she could divest him of his clothes as well. With his boxers still hanging around his calves she took him into her mouth, enveloping him like a wet velvet fantasy, going down carefully but without hesitation, until he slid against the back of her throat. She swallowed, bobbed up again, swirled her tongue around his tip and sucked, repeated the process three times and he didn't know which way was up or down anymore. She only stopped when his thumb brushed against her cheek, a small but definite gesture in a flurry of motion.

She had him pulled to the floor in the blink of an eye, not bothering with the couch tonight as she pushed him down and crawled on top of him. Their eyes met, said everything that needed to be said, and fluttered closed when their lips collided, hot open-mouthed kisses, shaky close breaths, moments of sharing the same air, tongues mingling and teasing until their collective taste almost overwhelmed them. The wooly beige carpet and soft rose petals beneath their sweaty skin, a burning need inside of them, the smell of summer and a warm city night, the smell of her, the smell of him – it was an attack on all their senses.

She moved down, leaned back and took him in, effortlessly sheathing him in her slick wetness, and everything else faded until they were all and everything that mattered and whole and united and one. They moved as one, they breathed as one, they moaned as one, the sound starting in her throat and ending in his. They sped up and slowed down as one, feeling exactly what the other one needed in the way her inner muscles gripped him, in the way his breath hitched, in the way his fingers were skating down her arched back.

He hit a particularly nice spot and she bit her lip, hard, to stifle her scream. He reacted by sitting up, holding her tightly and flipping them around so that she was on her back, but she surprised him by shaking her head. She pushed him back with her hands until he slipped out of her and then Kate turned towards the couch, bracing her arms on the cold dark leather and settling on her knees, parting them for Rick.

He groaned, moved behind her, nipped at her bare shoulder as his erection slipped between her legs, sliding against her folds. His fingers brushed her long hair to one side so he could kiss up her neck, even as his other hand squeezed her breast and then dropped to her clit, teasing her until she pushed back against him.

When he couldn't hold out anymore, but was positive that he wasn't going to blow any second now, he gently guided her upper body forward, bending her over to get a good angle. She was already whining as he carefully pushed into her, his moistened finger still circling her clit, his thrusts speeding up steadily until she searched with clumsy hands for a pillow to bite into. She came hard and faster than she had planned, screaming into the pillow as her muscles clamped down on him. He kept pumping into her, his forefinger tapping rhythmically against her clit, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of everything.

When he came, he pinched her nipple and pressed her into the couch, his flat hand rubbing against her as he spilled into her with a last strong shove.

"Oh" she gasped quietly and he pulled back to thrust once more while he still could. He wasn't disappointed as he felt her muscles flutter around him, her body going lax and almost melting into the couch. He flicked his fingers against her clit and she hummed in surprise, her body trembling even when he slipped out of her.

They both sighed and Rick pressed a soft kiss to the back of her spine. After a minute, she raised herself up and turned around, not really seeing anything in the darkness - as the last candle had faded out - but finding his lips nonetheless.

Their bodies fit nicely together, comfortably. If there had been light to see, they would have made a lovely picture: Kneeling on his living room carpet, violet, red and white rose petals strewn across the floor, their bodies pressed together, naked except for Rick's socks, which he hadn't taken off.

When the kiss broke because Rick started to yawn, Kate chuckled softly.

"Come on, let's clean this up. Wouldn't want to give Alexis yet another reason for therapy."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _There's an Ignition reference in here. If you can spot it, you'll get extra cookies :) Thank you for all your awesome support!_


	11. Bad Days

**A/N:** _Yes, this fanfic contains case-heavy parts. Yes, they exist for a reason. Yes, it will make sense to you in a while. Please give it a shot and try to enjoy this, despite the lack of smuttiness in this chapter. There is a cute Caskett moment anyway!_

_No, I haven't replied to your reviews yet, but I am doing NaNo right now and I hope that you appreciate the fact that I am even posting anything at all *blackmails you into writing more reviews*_

_I'm so unbelievably thankful for all your support! I never would have gotten this far if it weren't for all you lovely readers and your constructive criticism!_

* * *

><p>"I dreamt about you" Rick told her at his bathroom sink, dry toothbrush in hand.<p>

"Yeah?" Kate answered, her eyes closed as she drew her hair up into a messy ponytail so she could wash her face.

She tried to take it lightly, but something in the way he had said it alerted her. One look at his face in the mirror and she knew instantly what kind of dream it had been.

She had them, too. In various scenarios with different outcomes, the effects ranging from sad and shocking to mind-blowingly devastating. Sometimes it was Kate herself who died, but usually it was him. The worst ones were when she was there right next to him and couldn't stop it, when his blood drenched her crisp white blouse and the Kevlar 'writer' vest proved useless. The ones that hit her like a sucker punch were those where she came home and there was an officer waiting at her door, the images only half dream, the other half memory.

Sometimes she died with him, sometimes she even found comfort in that thought.

In the better ones, she blew his murderer's head off or locked them behind bars, knowing full well that they would never breathe the air of freedom again.  
>In the worse ones, she had to face Alexis, her father's blood barely dried on her hands as she tried to comfort the girl, who stared at her with endless sadness, anger and cold disapproval. She woke up guilty, terrified, sweating, angry, sad, confused, relieved, sometimes all of the above.<p>

Kate touched his shoulder softly so that he turned to look at her, and not just her reflection in the mirror. She usually was no hugger, but this time she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. For a long minute, no words were necessary.

"Promise to behave yourself today, okay?" he said after a while, his words making light of it, but he wasn't trying hard enough to have his voice sound convincingly casual.

"Always" she answered and it was everything he needed to hear.

* * *

><p>"Bad news" Montgomery said as they arrived at the precinct together, the Captain already waiting for them at his office's doorway.<br>"Really bad news."

Worry dug deep lines into Kate's forehead as she followed her mentor into the seperate room.  
>"What is it, Captain?" she wanted to know, bracing herself for another dead officer, or worse. And indeed, she wasn't so far off.<p>

"We have a problem. This just started to get a whole lot more complicated. Two more bodies" Montgomery announced and Castle gulped as he closed the door behind them.

There had been a murder in Chelsea, a concierge shot to death with four lethal bullets yesterday evening. Same caliber as Detective Holmes' five shots. Nobody had noticed the connection until this morning, when another body was found in East Harlem, at the other end of Central Park. Three shots.

It was a countdown.

* * *

><p>"Who walks around killing a policewoman, a concierge and a janitor?" Castle asked as they drove to this morning's crime scene in East Harlem. "Could it possibly be any more random?"<p>

Kate took a fast left turn and then cursed as the next stoplight turned red right in front of them.  
>"What, Castle, no story? I'm sure you could come up with something that connected them" she said without taking her eyes off the road.<p>

"Are you actually encouraging my wild imagination, detective?" Rick teased and smiled at his partner's profile. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm saying that this killer is either a psychopath, or there is a connection between the vics. There's no in between."  
>The light changed to green and she slammed her foot onto the gas pedal.<p>

"High school buddies" Rick suggested, but Kate simply shook her head and pointed out the age difference.

"Peters, the concierge, was 52. Detective Holmes had just turned 35. I think we can rule out a High School connection."

Rick hung his head and pouted, but had to concede to her point.  
>"Jewel heist!" he exclaimed and his face lit up in delight. "They robbed a rich old lady together and now one of the thieves is killing the others so he doesn't need to split the prize!"<p>

Kate huffed. "Seriously? A janitor and a smart young detective rob an old lady? That's ridiculous. Besides, how would that help us find the killer?"

Rick opened his mouth and closed it again, scrunching up his face in thought, his eyes flickering from left to right like a person in the REM sleep phase. She hated to admit it, but she had watched him sleep more than once.

"Love triangle, then" Rick concluded and then squeeked as Kate brought the car to an abrupt halt. They had reached the address. The detective opened her door and left the vehicle before she commented on his suggestion.

"Five shots, four shots, three shots. If that's not a coincidence, it would have to be a love pentagon for your theory to make sense."

"Love Pentagon! Ohhh, what a title!" said Rick with childish glee. He turned more somber though, offering actual advice and proving once more that she kept him around for more than just entertainment purposes.  
>"But you are right. Those numbers are significant. They are a countdown, meaning that this is more than just a psychopath randomly killing off unrelated people. Those people mean something to him. They probably hurt him. This is revenge for something."<p>

Kate shot him a serious look as they passed the crime scene tape. "It might be."

* * *

><p>"Michael Carrick had a record, and not just a small one!" announced Esposito back at the precinct, slapping a heavy folder onto Beckett's desk. Castle had disappeared half an hour ago, claiming that Alexis needed him to pick up her graduation cap and gown and arrange something with the school's photographer. Kate knew for a fact that Alexis' cap and gown were hanging in her room already, but she let his white lie slip. Although he was probably planning the next disaster of epic proportions, she had more important things on her mind. He had promised to come back soon with food and that had been enough.<p>

"Our dear janitor Mike spent over twelve years combined in prison. He's got charges ranging from assault and B&E to negligent homicide. He just got out a couple weeks ago" said the latin detective.

Beckett processed the information with a concentrated expression on her face. "That could be our connection between the first and third victim; Holmes the cop and Carrick the perp, they could have easily crossed paths."

She was scribbeling onto the murderboard with a black marker as she spoke.

"Anything on the concierge, Peters?" she asked, not looking away from her precious timeline, her eyebrows scrunched together.

Ryan puckered his lips, his blue shirt bringing out his eyes and making him look even younger than usual. "Consensus is that everybody loved him. The tennants at his building said he greeted them every day, was always friendly, took his job very seriously."

Kate frowned and turned around to face her team. "That's good for him, but not helping at all. There's gotta be a connection!" she said determinedly, not wanting to believe that this man might kill his next two targets before they would be able to find him.

Ryan lifted his hand. "He used to work for a private security firm. Maybe that could have brought him into contact with Holmes or Carrick?"

Kate pressed her lips into a thin line, but before she could comment, her desk phone rang.  
>"Lanie, anything new?" she answered the call, recognizing the incoming number at first glance.<p>

"We found the same DNA on all of the victims. He spat on them, like he spat on Holmes. There are also signs of struggle on Simon Peters; he probably tried to defend himself. And…" Lanie reported, but trailed off.

"Yes, Lanie?" Kate asked and her friend cleared her throat.

"He kicked Carrick's nuts. Hard. Perimortem."

Beckett couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Well, Carrick was a criminal. Whoever killed him probably didn't like him very much."

Esposito waved his file up in the air, signaling to her that he had found something.

"Thanks, Lanie. I think your boyfriend just found something. I'll get back to you" she said, waited for the ME's goodbye and hung up. She nodded towards Esposito and he interpreted it as a sign to speak.

"Eight years ago, Carrick shot a young woman in a bank robbery gone wrong. Holmes was an officer at the scene and part of the hostage negotiation team" he said and handed her the file.

"Peters worked at that exact bank as a security guard at that time. That is our connection!" finished Ryan and jotted down the old homicide's facts on the whiteboard.

"We need to find everyone else involved in that robbery, they could all be his next target" Beckett concluded and already grabbed her desk phone again.

"And I need you to find me all you can get about the victim's next of kin. This murder might very well be the reason for this personal vendetta."


	12. Down

**A/N:** _I know it's been forever since I updated this. I warned you: It's NaNoNovember! But I do apologize, I had hoped that I'd be done with this chapter a lot sooner.  
><em>_Anyway. This is extra long for you. And you get a cookie for each name reference you catch. _

_I truly hope that you will enjoy reading this and won't kill me for the ending…  
><em>_I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. I know it's evil to leave you like this._

* * *

><p>"What did I miss?" Rick wanted to know when he hurried back into the precinct and found everyone bustling around; almost the entire 12th precinct seemed to be working this case.<p>

"A lot" Kate answered, already in her summer jackett, car keys in hand. "Our victim number three, Carrack, shot a woman eight years ago at a bank robbery, Anita Ibanez. Detective Holmes was there, so was Peters, so were twenty-five other people. We located eighteen of them, uniforms are looking for the rest."

"They could all be the next targets" Rick concluded rightfully.

"Or the killer" added Ryan.

"Beckett, we got something!" came Velasquez' voice from the murder board.

"Timothy Yun Min. His wife said he was supposed to get home over an hour ago and his secretary confirms that he left his workplace, but he hasn't arrived yet and isn't answering his phone."

"An hour ago? If he really is our next target, it might already be too late. Our killer never held his other victims captive, he always shot them right where we found them."

Velasquez and Beckett had matching expressions of worry on their face. Their brows were knit, their lips pressed to tight lines. They knew they were probably fighting a losing battle against time.

"We're going to stick to our original plan" Beckett decided, beckoning for all of the detectives to gather in front of the board.

"Velasquez, Cooper and Parsons, you go find Yun Min. Keep the SWAT team on standby. This guy is on a vendetta and he already killed a cop, he's not going to be easy to take down."

She pointed at Esposito, Ryan and a third cop, McNulty. "You go find Lily White and Barney Johnson, like we discussed. Check on the woman first."

She turned towards Castle and Karpowski, her posture strong and confident, a leader through and through even though Castle could see the anxiety in her eyes.

"We're going to go find Emmet, the hostage negotiator. My gut's telling me it's very likely that he's the last target, but even if he's not, he might be able to help us."

* * *

><p>The street was empty for New Yorker comparisons. The four-story brownstone in front of the two cops and the tag-along writer stood quietly, eerily, into the mild summer sky, the sun still an hour away from setting.<p>

John Emmet had retired from the NYPD two and a half years ago. He had been the negotiator on Carrack's robbery. He'd been on the phone with the man when he'd shot Anita Ibanez, 24 years old, begging her captor to let her go. Beckett knew that the young woman hadn't been the only corpse Emmet had seen in his career, but she also knew from own experience that that didn't make it any easier.

Karpowski sent a quick prayer to heaven as they stepped into the medieval elevator, hoping not only that the old lift wouldn't break down, but also that the tragic loss in that bank eight years ago wouldn't cause the old man's premature and unnatural death.

Castle's hand found Beckett's side, settled gently on the small of her back, and their eyes met, silent words of support and reassurance passing between them. Beckett broke their bond only when her phone rang, just as the elevator dinged their arrival.

"Found something, Esposito?"

"Oh yes, we did" came the detective's concerned answer. "Tim Yun Min, in his parking garage, two bullets in his chest. He's still breathing, but unconscious. Paramedics are already here. No idea whether he'll make it or not."

"Oh shit" cursed Beckett, letting the word fall from her lips because the moment called for it. "We'll check on Emmet and come right over. Stay put."

"Okay, boss."

A thought occurred to Beckett and she threw in a question before he could hang up. "Weren't you supposed to check out White and Johnson instead? What were you even doing in Yun Min's parking garage?"

"They're both fine" Esposito answered. "White answered her phone before we even got out of the precinct, and Johnson is sleeping off his chronical hangover."

"Alright. Keep me posted."

"Sure thing, Beckett."

The line disconnected and she slipped her phone back into her pocket.

"He got to Yun Min. Two shots, but he's still alive. Don't know yet whether he'll get through or not."

"Damn" Karpowski muttered, and just as Rick opened his mouth to add something, they heard a loud rattling crash from across the hall, right behind the corner nearest to them. The three of them froze, then the two detective's hands simultaneously went for their weapons, their figures crouched, alert, ready.

Beckett signaled with her left that she was running point and that Castle should stay back - he had learned the police hand signals last year - and pressed her back to the wall so she could inch her way to the corner.

Holding her Glock with both hands, her shoulders squared like she'd shown Rick oh so long ago, she swiveled into the next hallway. She spotted the appartment right way - the door had been kicked in forcefully, and sounds of struggle could be heard clearly and loudly; a man's grunts, another man's roaring scream, glass splintering, wood cracking, a howl of pain.

"Freeze, Police!" screamed Beckett, but didn't bother stopping at the door, just crashed right through, barging into the appartment, Karpowski and Castle right behind her. The two cops took opposite rooms, their backs to each other, securing an empty bathroom and a destroyed kitchen. Then they rushed forward, into the living room, yelling "NYPD", their weapons ready. They scanned the room again, Beckett turning left, Karpowski right, the adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Castle could see the hint of a jackett disappear behind a shattered window, could hear strangled grunts from outside.

"Fire escape!" he yelled just as Karpowski confirmed "Clear!"

Beckett sprinted towards the window, running faster than Castle ever could, despite her sinfully high heels. She dashed through the opening in the glass.

"Police! Freeze!" she yelled once more, and she was already one flight down when Karpowski and Castle reached the window.

Three floors below them, they could spot the heads of grey-haired Emmet and his captor hustle down onto the pavement, jumping the last flight and crashing onto the ground together, the killer urging Emmet forwards with a small caliber rifle to the back of his head. Beckett cursed, kept on running, the Glock firmly gripped in her hands as she took step by lightening fast step down the fire escape. She knew she couldn't shoot from here without risking to hit Emmet, but she needed to be prepared in any case.

The killer pointed his rifle up towards his followers, waving frantically and yelling curse words and intimidations at the cops and the writer. Beckett didn't slow down, just kept on running, skipping every other step, flying down the staircase, and when he realized that she wouldn't stop, he forcefully yanked Emmet forwards and shuffled down the alley with him. Rick could see now that a line of thick blood was trickling down the old negotiator's head, running from his temple into his collar.

Beckett's shoes hit the pavement just as the killer and his hostage reached the other side of the alley, where a large metal door stood open, leading into a car repair shop.

"Freeze!" Beckett yelled again, aimed and shot, her bullet spiraling off the closing door and landing useless in the alley as she hurried towards the building. Karpowski reached the ending of the stairs, but the screeching sound of metal rubbing against metal signaled that it was too late - the door had been locked. Beckett collapsed against the brownstone, letting her arms rest on her knees, panting.

"Damnit" she gasped.

* * *

><p>Inside the auto repair shop, the tall man with the rifle was restlessly pacing the floor, from the door, to the work desk, to the door...<p>

He'd shoved the ex cop onto an old chair, had dragged both into the middle of the room with sheer force of will, the adrenaline giving his muscles power he hadn't known he possessed. He'd grabbed a pair of plastic zipcuffs from the mechanical supply locker at the back of the shop, had bound the old man to the chair, never putting down his rifle.

"You're Anita's boyfriend, right?" Emmet said after a long while, choosing his words carefully, praying that his memory was correct. He'd always been good at remembering cases and names, no matter how long ago they'd happened. Every name of every person he'd ever lost on the job was branded irrevocably into his brain.

"WHAT'S IT TO YOU?" the killer yelled, swiveled around and slapped the cuffed man, hard, with the back of his hand. Emmet tasted blood in his mouth.

"I remember her" he continued calmly, testing his split lip carefully with his tongue. The man with the rifle glared at him, anger and madness and grief written into his face, his dark eyes shining, flickering unsteadily.

"You better!" he spat and shoved the end of the gun into the man's ribs. "But you know nothing about her. You never cared about her like I did!"

Emmet nodded, following the first rule of hostage negotiation, the rules that were imprinted into his head from years and years of remembering them. "You're right. Not like you. Nobody ever cared about her like you."

"DON'T TALK!" the killer screamed, his face contorted in a fiery rage that made him look at least ten years older. He couldn't be more than 35 years old, Emmet guessed.

"Don't talk your way out of this!" he threatened, waving uncontrollably with his weapon. "Talking doesn't help! It never did! Talking didn't save my Anita!"

Emmet stayed quiet for a second, thinking and assessing before he spoke again. Apologies would not do, he knew that.  
>"And now? You can't save her anymore. You miss her, I get that, but you can't have her back" he said at last.<p>

* * *

><p>"We need backup NOW, not in twelve minutes! I don't think I can get in there with only one cop and expect everyone to get out alive" Beckett huffed into her cell phone.<p>

Montgomery sighed. "Beckett, I can't control time. I trust your judgement on whether it's too dangerous to go in or not, but I can't beam the backup truck to where you need it to be."

Beckett brought her hand up to her forehead, trying to collect her thoughts, assess the situation.

"You've handled takedowns on your own before, I know you can do it" the Captain added. "I'm only going to say this once, and if you tell anyone about it I'll deny it, but… Castle's a good shot. You're either gonna have to wait the 12 minutes it's going to take the backup to get there, and risk losing that man, or take a civilian inside and pray to the gods that everyone will be safe."

Beckett was stunned speechless for a second. She'd never expected to hear those words from her Captain.

"Are you sure, sir?" she asked, slipping into her bullet proof vest, Karpowski and Castle already doing the same.

"No" Montgomery admitted. "Just…whatever you do, make sure Castle doesn't get himself killed" he advised.

"Of course, Captain" Beckett assured and hung up, her eyes refusing to meet Castle's.

Karpowski, who'd only listened to Beckett's part of the conversation, arched an eyebrow at her friend and colleague.  
>"What'd he say?" she asked, stress evident in every angry line of her face.<p>

"Nothing official" Beckett answered. "But if I hear one little noise out of that damned car shop, we're going in there."

* * *

><p>"But I can have revenge!" the man inside the locked up building yelled, his voice tight, clouded with tears just waiting to fall. "I want justice! You let her die! You talked to that bastard as if that was going to help solve all the problems, you talked to him like you were some kind of therapist instead of letting me run in there and save her!"<p>

Emmet saw the opening where it presented itself, saw the faltering feet of the man as proof of his confusion, his tiredness, his grief. This man wasn't crazy - just terribly sad.

"You're right" he agreed again, because it had proved usefull in his experience as hostage negotiator. "I couldn't save her. But what's the use of killing me as well?"

"You gave him time to kill my love, so you're responsible! You're the reason she's dead! It's your fault!" the man screamed, tears running down his face now, his gun shaking in his hand, trembling against Emmet's temple.

* * *

><p>"He didn't shoot" Castle said quietly as they were taking positions in front of the old back door of the auto shop, preparing to act as quickly as possible once Beckett determined that they needed to get in.<p>

"Hm?" she asked, trusting her partner enough to know that this must be bothering him if he chose to talk about it now, of all times.

"When you were running after him in that alley, he was pointing his gun at you, but he didn't shoot."

Beckett shook her head slightly, still not understanding what he was getting at. "So?"

Castle licked his lips and angled his head, a clear sign that a theory was building in his head. "So what if he was never going to shoot you, because you weren't there at that bank robbery?"

Beckett's eyebrows rose up. Castle continued.

"He planned out this revenge, meticulously. He observed his victims to figure out their schedules, so he could strike at the best opportunity. He did a countdown, from five to two bullets. What if he has only one bullet left? What if he didn't shoot you, because there is only one bullet left in his rifle, and it's for Emmet, not for you?"

* * *

><p>"This world is not just" Emmet responded, almost scaringly confident. "If this were to be a just world, if we were to live by the rules of 'an eye for an eye', do you know what would happen? Someone would come and kill you. Because if you kill me, you're a murderer just like the man in that bank. And the people who love me would have a right to kill you. Would that be just? Do you want to be a murderer?" Emmet asked, still unshaken, calm, oozing security and wisdom. Outside of the man's view, he was trying to wriggle his hands out of his cuffs, but quickly had to realize that he had no chance of getting out.<p>

The killer looked at him, the trembling of his hand increasing, but his gaze clearing for a split second. "I already am."

And then he broke down, crumbled without warning, tears streaming freely down his face now, his nose running, his chest heaving in uncontrollable hiccups. The gun shook so hard in his hand that it looked as if it was about to fall down any second.

But the man caught himself, at least enough to look up, stare blindly into his hostage's eyes, and talk.

"So what does it matter! I'm a murderer, I'll burn in hell, no matter whether I'll kill two or thirty people!" he sobbed, shoving his rifle back into Emmet's face. "I want to kill you, too! I want to shoot a bullet through your head and spit on you, just like that bastard Carrack did to my Anita!"

And that was the moment when he heard the back door crash, heard the police scream at him, felt his legs give in beneath him, so he turned and shot.

* * *

><p>The sound ripped through Castle's body as if it was him who had been hit. In a reflex faster than he could have dreamt of, he caught her body's fall before she hit the ground. He eased her down and slumped beside her.<p>

"Kate! Kate, no!"

Her eyes were wide with shock and fear, her face white in terror.

Three rapid shots filled the air and he ducked, squeezed his eyes shut, covered her already slumped body with his, like a human shield.

Silence.

Then Karpowski's low voice, as if through a fog.  
>"Emmet? You okay?"<p>

The old man's raspy voice answered from somewhere close to them.  
>"Yeah, I'm fine."<p>

Then the familiar hissing of the police radio when the detective dialed dispatch.

"We need an ambulance! Officer down, I repeat: Officer down!"


	13. The End Of The Road

Rick forgot how to breathe. His own life just wasn't important anymore when Kate was close to losing hers. He watched as her eyelids fluttered rapidly, struggling to stay open, and his hand rose to her cheek, brushed tenderly against it.

"No, Kate. Please. Stay with me" he pleaded.

Her lips moved, trembled.

"I'm fine" Kate croaked out and three pairs of eyes narrowed to scrutinize her, Rick's full of unshed tears.

"You're hit" he said, his voice hitching, his hands carefully wandering down her body.

"It's just the Kevlar" she replied in a thin, shaking voice.

Only then did Rick realize that he was feeling the hardness of a bulletproof vest beneath his fingers. He released a staggering breath as his arms gave in under his weight and he was just barely able to catch his body so that he wouldn't crush her underneath him.

He had completely forgotten that she was wearing protection; that they were all wearing body armor. Even he himself had his WRITER vest strapped tightly around his torso. For a second there, his world had ended, time had stopped and his heart had frozen.

Even now, as he pulled back and she slowly lifted her upper body off the ground, mumbling to mask her pain, but not able to keep the grimace off her face, he was still in shock.

"Thank God. Oh Thank God" he mumbled, his face ashen, his eyes squeezed shut. He probably looked worse than she did.

* * *

><p>The medics of the crime scene ambulance examined her thoroughly, but released her quickly, because she was begging them to let her go and being all kinds of unfriendly and miserable. Karpowski had done a thorough job as well: one shot to the knee, another one to the hand of the mad man with the rifle that had cost three people their lives.<p>

His name was Jacob Barnell and he had indeed been the boyfriend of the tragically murdered Anita Ibanez, like Emmet had remembered. In fact, they had been engaged, Jacob told the paramedics as they strapped him to a gurney, just before he passed out. He would make it; the ambulence men were quite sure of it.

Tim Yun Min was still in critical condition, but the doctors grew more and more hopeful by the hour. If everything went alright in the next twentyfour hours, Barnell's death toll wouldn't rise to four.

As soon as they let her go, Beckett searched for Emmet in the crime scene commotion, and found him collapsed on the stoop in front of his building.

"Everything okay?" she asked, ever the sensitive cop, looking out for victims and colleagues - in this case all summed up into one person.

Emmet knew what it was like to work cases, to face death and act fast, think concentrated.  
>And Beckett knew that it was an entirely different situation when you weren't the one with the gun in hand. When you were victim, not officer of the law. Emmet seemed to be holding up alright though, because he looked up at her and offered her a timid smile.<p>

"I'm okay, detective. Thank you."

Beckett's answering expression was tightlipped and tense, but kind. "I'm sure we wouldn't have been able to save you if you hadn't helped yourself a little. I don't know what happened in there, Mister Emmet, but I'm sure if you'd been like his other victims, you would have been dead in under one minute."

Emmet nodded. "I wasn't hostage negotiator for twenty-five years for nothing, ma'am."

"He talked?" Beckett wanted to know, angling her head slightly to the side. The old man looked suddenly very tired.

"He broke" he said quietly. "This went over his head. He might have planned it in the beginning, but now that it was nearing the end, it suddenly all caught up with him."

Beckett nodded. "That's not unusual."  
>Emmet agreed, but didn't look happy about it. His gaze drifted off, fixed on some place in the distance, some time in the past.<p>

"Yeah" he said at last, and looked at her again. "Thank you, Detective Beckett."  
>She waved it off. "I'm just glad you're okay."<p>

* * *

><p>Relief hadn't quite made it to her brain yet, but she was an NYPD detective, so she coped.<p>

Rick was not.

His hands were shaking, even fourty-five minutes after the incident. She didn't know whether it was worse than the days after those few moments of fear and terror at that helicopter hangar with Dan half a year ago, or whether it was just plain different.

This time, he hadn't knocked out his old friend with his tazer - instead he'd watched his partner get knocked to the ground, a bullet hitting her chest. It didn't matter that she'd been protected by a vest; nor did it matter that she'd made it through without so much as a minor injury. He was shaken.

"Ready to go?" he quietly asked Kate, unsteady on his feet, seeking her contact whenever possible, constantly keeping his hand at her back, his side close to hers. He could feel that she was tense, that her jaw was clenched even as he breached her personal space and broke every rule she'd ever established by hugging her gently, right where they stood.

She held tight and nodded curtly into his neck. Captain Montgomery had told her to go home and rest - she'd be able to do the paperwork tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Could you take me to my apartment please?" she asked softly as they slipped into an empty cab. "I love your mother and daughter, but I'm not sure I want to face them just yet" she said quietly, trying to meet his gaze, but he was staring hard-headedly out of the cab window. She tugged at his hand and he turned, completely disoriented, an expression on his face that spoke volumes about the things he'd been imagining just now.<p>

"Hey" she said softly and leaned across the seat to press a gentle kiss to his unresponsive lips. It was as if he wasn't even really there.

"I'm here" Kate told him and tried to smile a little for his sake. "I'm alive."

"Hm" he murmured, but the wet shimmer in his eyes only intensified. He swallowed and reluctantly tore his gaze away from her to tell the driver to change their destination.

* * *

><p>He broke down as soon as they reached the safety and privacy of her apartment. He choked on his tears, tried to hold them in as he collapsed against her front door, but failed when her hand came up to his cheek. He cried, still restrained, fighting to keep his volume down, his body under control. She wrapped her arms around him, burried her head against his shoulder and let him cry, her own body shaking as adrenaline washed off and exhaustion left her drained. She couldn't cry. She had taken shots to her vest before - they hurt, physically, and they shocked, emotionally, but they were never something Kate had cried over.<p>

"What were you thinking?" he mumbled tearily into her ear and she ran her hand soothingly through his hair..

"What was I thinking? ..." she repeated and drew back slightly to look into his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"That was stupid" he whispered and dried his tears with the back of his hand. Her eyebrows shot upwards. Clearly she must have misunderstood him.

"Excuse me? I was just doing my job" she threw back, her concern for him fading even as sobs continued to escape his body, making room for chagrin.

She just got shot, for god's sake!

"It's not your job to risk your life like that!" he exclaimed, and wiped angrily at another escaping tear.

"Like hell it isn't!" she released and took a step away from him. "My job is to get murderers behind bars and save other people from getting killed! That's exactly what I did today!"

"Not when SWAT is only twenty seconds away and you're putting your life on the line without any reason!"

"That's bull, Rick! You know just as well as I do that they weren't twenty seconds away and that Emmet would have been dead if I'd waited another minute!"

She turned her back to him, strode into her living room, exasperated. She didn't want to fight with him right now.  
>"This is my job, you know there are risks involved" she explained, a hint calmer now.<p>

"Oh come on, Kate!" he huffed, and something inside her snapped. She swiveled around.

"You are a hypocrit, Rick! Now you say I shouldn't have gone in, but I can't recall you telling my to stop when you ran into the building right next to me!"

He stepped up to her challenge, hurt and anger and exhaustion driving him. "Because you wouldn't listen to me! You never do! And if I can't stop you, the least I can do is stay with you to make sure you're safe!"

She almost wanted to laugh, but that would have only made it worse.

"Rick, you are not a cop! You can't keep me safe, whether you go in with me or not! Today proves it - you were there and I still got shot!" she fired back, and it hurt her even as she said it. Something flashed across his eyes and in that moment she knew she'd done something terrible.

"You were with me, Karpowski was with me for god's sake, we were pressed for time, otherwise we would have waited for backup" she continued anyway. "Do you think I don't know how to do my own job?"

"Fine!" he spat, his voice getting louder. "Take it that way! This isn't about me overreacting, this is about me trying to help you! If you don't want my help, then do everything alone from now on, make your freaking own breakfast in the morning and see who else will bring you coffee, cause it won't be me anymore!

'Oh I'm Detective Beckett and I never make mistakes, I'm superwoman, I don't need anyone, I'm strong and nothing can touch me, I'm Miss Invincible'" he mocked her in a falsely high-pitched voice, screaming himself into a rage like she'd never seen him before. He knew he was overreacting, deep down he was well aware of it, even as the hurtful words passed his lips. But he couldn't stop them. He was unable to stop, now that he was on a roll, now that everything that had ever bothered him about her in the past six months came to the surface and boiled over, spitting out of him like from an erupting volcano.

"I'm fucking pissed, Kate! I can't take it anymore, you and your inability to trust anyone, to rely on someone. Why is it so fucking hard for you to just admit that you sometimes, every once in a while, need someone else? I can be there for you, I want to shoulder some of the burden you're determined to carry alone, but you won't let me! You won't let me in, Kate, and I'm sick of it!"

Tears were running down her face, but he didn't stop. He needed to be honest now - this was their make or break moment. Either they solved it now, or they never would. She didn't wipe at her angry tears, was too proud to acknowledge them, even as they smeared her makeup and clouded her view. No, they would never solve this.

"I'm sick of trying to get you to open up! I'm sick of worrying over you because you never say how you really feel! I'm through with it, Kate! Do you hear me? I'm through!"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I apologize profoundly for this chapter. Please don't kill your cat, your cactus, your dorm partner or your spouse. If you are angry because of this chapter, please let it all out on me. I know I'm mean. I know I'm a tease. (And just like Castle, I secretly enjoy it...)_

_This chapter goes out especially to Miss Jeanne and Miss Marie. I hereby also officially inform you of the fact that I will not post the next chapter until you two leave me a review._


	14. Detours

**A/N:** _You've probably all been waiting for this. I don't know if it turns out the way you expected. See for yourself._

_I have to admit that I went a little experimental on this chapter concerning the breaks. I figured, if fast cuts and parallelism do awesome things for television, why not try them in literature as well?_

_I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter, even despite its angsty touch._

* * *

><p>The door slammed shut behind him and Kate sagged against the nearest wall, letting her body sink slowly to the floor, defeated. A tear dropped from her chin into her shirt, but no sob escaped her mouth, no sound made it out of her closed up throat.<p>

Her trembling hand came up to press against her heart, where it hurt and burned and ached, her rib cage bruised from the shot, her pulse hammering forcefully.

She wouldn't follow him. Not yet. Not when he had just shattered her into a million pieces like this.  
>She needed time to put herself back together. She didn't even know whether she could.<p>

This was the reason she didn't like to open up. This was the reason she'd never let anyone in - because it gave them the potential to hurt her. She had been broken so many times, and she'd fought hard to glue her pieces back together, but now she feared there were too many pieces and not enough glue. She had nothing to start on. She had been reduced to dust.

* * *

><p>Outside of her apartment, Rick was banging his forehead against the mirrored elevator wall, his fisted hands at each side of his head, clenched so tightly that his knuckles stood white and harsh against his skin.<p>

He wouldn't run back to her. Not yet. Not when it hurt so much to look at her, to be reminded of her face beneath him as she'd laid on the ground, her eyelids struggling to stay open.

She'd gotten shot today. A real gun, a real bullet, and if it hadn't been for her Kevlar vest, she'd be dead now.

His mother had been right when she'd told him that death wasn't something he could write away with his words, and that he couldn't charm his way out of bullets.

She'd be dead now.

He'd never get to bring her coffee again, he'd never get to see her smile, her eyes as they lit up, her lips as they curved. He was sure he'd forget that smile quickly - every time he'd think of her he'd only see that look of fear, of shock, those eyes rolling back in her head.

He'd forget about her soft laugh until only the sound of that gunshot would be on the forefront of his mind.

He'd die with her. Of this he was sure. If she died, taken away from him by a murderer's bullet, or knive, or hands, he'd die right along with her.

* * *

><p>He had been wrong. She could in fact admit that she needed someone. She needed him.<p>

She loved him so much. The way she had never loved anyone else, apart from her parents. Unconditionally. Fully.  
>He'd yelled at her, he'd said mean things and true things and wrong things. Still she loved him.<p>

Because a world without him - where would that leave her?

She'd drown without him. He wasn't just dry land beneath her feet, he was her foundation, the ground she walked on, everything she leaned on, the sky above her head, the light in the darkness of her life.

His love was what had saved her from herself. It sounded so overly dramatic, even in her own head, but as another tear rolled down her cheek, Kate acknowledged that it was the truth.

* * *

><p>She would most probably kill him some day.<p>

And yet he needed her.

He couldn't stay away from her, not even now, not after almost losing her, not when she was actually alive and her warm body was there to prove it. Everything inside him ached for her; only a small part of his brain kept telling him that it was stupid to love her, that she wasn't good for him, that she would rip him apart over and over again, until there was nothing left of him and even childish hope and unconditional love couldn't put him back together.

He'd ignored that part of him for most of his life, and he wasn't going to start listening to it now.

He loved her. He couldn't change it now, couldn't help it, couldn't pretend that he didn't.

He just needed some time to clear his head. To shake off this devastating image of her fearful eyes, awaiting death in those brief seconds before she'd been able to breathe again. He needed to slow down the erratic beating of his heart.

And then he would talk to her.

And maybe she'd finally understand what she meant to him.

* * *

><p>And suddenly something clicked in her head.<p>

She couldn't live without him. Not if he died because of something she could have prevented.

If he died because she'd brought him into danger, because her job had put him into a certain situation, because she hadn't been careful enough - she'd never survive that.

And that was most probably exactly what Rick was feeling, too.

She didn't doubt his love for her. If she did that, after all they had been through, after all she saw in his eyes every time he looked at her, then her life would be pointless, worthless, meaningless.

He was fearing for her. She understood that now.  
>He'd latched out at her, yelled at her, screamed ugly and hurtful things at her, because as much as she couldn't bear to live without him, he wouldn't be able to live without her.<p>

He loved her.

Kate let her head fall back against the cold wall, sniffling away the last of her tears, her eyes puffy, her nose running.

She needed to get herself back together.  
>And then she needed to talk to him.<p>

* * *

><p>He didn't want to go home yet, so he sent a quick text to Alexis and headed for the park. He walked and walked, feeling his tears dry, his heart slow, his breathing quiet down.<p>

He didn't see the dark blue sky, didn't feel the mild evening breeze, didn't hear the laughing teens and their barking dogs. All he saw and heard and felt was her. Memories of her, of times passed, of their days together, of cherry scented hair and smooth skin, of half smirks and rolled eyes, of glares and kisses and caresses…

It was only as the park cleared out and his feet began to hurt that he realized how much time had passed, how far he'd walked. So he turned around, texted Alexis again, and found himself a cab.

* * *

><p>She did unimportant things to occupy her. Menial chores. Her laundry, her nails, her mail. She needed to distract her hands while her head was busy going through visions of her future, memories of her past.<p>

She needed to realign her priorities, think through all the things she wanted to say, needed to say. She knew that they had to talk. If Rick would stay away today until after one a.m., she'd go to his loft herself, or to the Old Haunt, hunt him down wherever he was hiding. It was necessary. If they didn't solve this as soon as possible, they'd nev-

A knock on her door shook her out of her thoughts. A quick glance to her father's watch proved that it was just after midnight. It had been four hours since he'd left. With a steadying breath Kate opened the door, allowed Rick to step inside, not looking at him until she'd locked up behind him.

She'd planned out every sentence, but now that he stood before her, it all vanished into thin air.

He looked terrible. Shaken, haunted, sad and maybe still a hint angry.  
>"You're here" she whispered, barely audible, a statement said more to herself than towards him, in a voice so unbelieving and grateful as if he'd just cured all illnesses or walked on water.<p>

"Kate" he breathed, the name like a prayer on his lips, an exultation.

Okay, maybe not angry.

Her heart hammered so loudly in her chest that she felt out of breath, like she'd run a marathon or chased a bad guy in her killer heels. He did that to her. His gaze was so piercing that it knocked her entire being completely off balance. He always had.

She simply couldn't stay away from him anymore, so she stepped forward, the signal clear, the shimmer in her eyes even more so.

He closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her firmly into his body, enveloping all of her in his warm embrace. Her head fit perfectly into the nook of his neck, his large arms encircling her shoulders. He held her so tightly that she had trouble breathing, but she didn't care at all - her own grip on him was similar.

There was still hope. They could still make it work. She would never let him go again.

"I…" they both started at the same time and pulled apart to signal for each other to go first. Kate staunchly stayed silent, so he gave in and talked first.

"I'm not going to take back what I said" he warned, stepping away from her, but letting his hands slide down her arms and intertwine with hers.  
>"I meant it at the time."<p>

Kate nodded. "I know."  
>Her voice was rough, her mouth suddenly dry. "And now? Do you still mean it?"<p>

"Now I have realised that no matter what I'll try, I'll never be through with you" Rick said. His fingers gripped hers tighter. "I know it sounds cheesy, but you're in my heart, Kate. You're everything. You'll always be."

Everything she'd battled down in the last hours came back to her, the tears she thought she'd run out of suddenly rising back to close up her throat. He wanted to say more, but she stopped him with a slight shake of her head and a tug on his fingers. It was her turn.

"I struggle" she confessed. "Every time I let you in, I struggle. I have to fight down something inside of me, every time I want to share some piece of me with you. I thought I did it to protect you. Now I know that I was selfish, and that I think I did it to protect myself."

He nodded, sadly, knowingly. "I get that" he concurred. "But it's so hard, Kate. It's so hard to keep fighting for you. I thought all you needed was time, so I gave you time. I waited."

He let go of one of her hands so he could run his fingers through his damp hair. He hadn't even noticed that it had rained while he'd been out.

"I waited for three years until you let me in enough to kiss you, to make love to you, to be with you, but I'm still not in your heart, am I?"

She sucked in a trembling breath, shaking her head vividly, her eyes large. A single tear dripped from her lashes.  
>"Oh don't you dare question my love for you, Rick. Don't you dare it" she whispered.<p>

He squeezed her hands, pulled her in, let his forehead rest against hers. His voice was soothing.  
>"I don't. I know you love me. You might not say it very often, but you show me. We've been all but living together for half a year now, Kate" he rationalized, and even though he tried to say it kindly, she still felt a pang to her heart. It was true, she mused - she didn't tell him nearly often enough.<p>

"I know you love me" he repeated. "But what now?" he asked, his voice somewhere between choked up and desperate and pleading. "I'm supposed to watch you walk into your own death because you love me? I'm supposed to not care about the risks you take every day, because you love me?"

"No" she whispered, another tear sliding down her cheek. "Not because I love you. Because you love me. And because we love each other so much that we can't be apart."

He closed his eyes and pressed his face into hers, his lips just barely brushing hers. So close.  
>Kate sniffed, cleared her throat, braced herself.<p>

"I'm reckless," she admitted. "I sometimes take very high risks, and I often don't realize it."

He pulled away slightly, needing to look at her, letting her talk it out, say things in her time, the way she saw them.

"I never thought I could hurt you with that. I'm selfish. I always thought it only concerns me whether I die or not, whether I get hurt or not. I always thought that, if I kept you safe, if I managed to bring you back to your family, it didn't matter what happened to me."

"That's not selfish" he told her softly. "That's the opposite."

She shook her head, sadness and grief in her eyes.

"I used to think my life was worth less than all the others. That if I died, not as many people would care. Ever since my mother died..." she croaked, sniffing at another tear, her eyes dark. "I was broken. Broken isn't worth much."

Her quiet statement brought tears to his own eyes. His heart was suddenly heavy, his breathing slow and shallow, restricted by the weight that now rested on his shoulders.

Yet this was exactly what he'd been asking for. That he could carry part of her burden. That she'd let him in.

He could already see how sharing this secret of hers with him visibly lightened the weight on her shoulders. How her breathing eased as she allowed him to look into the deep abyss of her shattered heart.

"You came along and you changed me, Rick. You made me a better person. You made me believe my life was worth fighting for. First your books, then your friendship, then your love. The truth is, I can't do everything on my own. I am horrible at admitting it and even worse at showing it, but I need you. I need you Rick, more than I'd like."

His hand slowly came up to her cheek, tentatively, brushing away the few tears she had shed. He leaned down and she rose to her tiptoes, her old wooly socks brushing his black shoes, and when only half an inch seperated them, they took a deep breath together.

She smelled like clothes washing detergent and he smelled like rain, but as their lips met softly, they only tasted each other. They didn't move, didn't press, didn't caress, just stood there by her front door, mouth to mouth. There was nothing urgent about the kiss, but everything desperate.

"I need you" she repeated against his lips, her nose brushing his as she changed her angle, kissed the corner of his mouth. His raised hand slid from her cheek to lay gently and unrushing against her neck, his other arm wrapped around her, his thumb tracing circles on her lower back.

She guided her lips to his jaw, sank into him, eventually let her forehead rest against his shoulder. He took a shaky breath and she could feel his chest rise and tremble, pressed against hers.

"You know that I run, Rick" she breathed into his ear. "When things get too much, I run. Today, you were the one who left. You can't be a runner too, Rick. This relationship can't survive two of us."

His large hand cupped her chin, lifted it up so he could brush another slow kiss to her lips. His eyes stayed open, locked with hers, everything that had already been said and everything they couldn't say passing wordlessly between them.

"I came back" he whispered when he pulled away. There was no objection in her eyes at his insinuation - he was saying that she didn't usually come back, not unless he ran after her, made her turn around for him - only sadness.

"Promise me that you'll always come back" she asked of him, her voice shy and unsure of herself. It hurt to realize that there was still so much to work through for the two of them, that as many good times as they had, they also had terrible ones, lots of them.

"Promise me that you won't run quite so fast" he wanted to hear in return, his fingertips ghosting along her cheek. She looked straight into his eyes, allowed him to look right into her, see the depths of her feelings.

"Always" she whispered, blinking slowly on the first syllable, so he knew that she was meaning it. He understood her promise at what she intended it to be - a declaration of her love. Like so often, she didn't say the exact words, but she meant them all the same.

"I love you, too" he replied and she smiled at him, glad that he had figured her out, and leaned up to give him a kiss.


	15. Rest

**A/N:** _NaNo is over, and that means I have more time to write. Which doesn't necessarily mean that you'll get more updates, because it took me freaking forever to write this chapter. Anyway. Here it is. I know you've all been waiting for this, because 99% of you are only reading this story for the smut. Sad, but I think it might be true._

_Oh, and thank you for the reviews, dear readers! I haven't replied yet, but I do appreciate each and every one of you that takes the time to write me a line or two._

_Enjoy!_

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><p>It wasn't fast between them that night. No frenzied, chaotic make-up sex against her front door.<p>

Instead she led him into her apartment, walking backwards, their fingers intertwined, their eyes locked. Her bedroom smelled like rain, because one of the windows stood slightly open, but there was a residual stifling air that told him that she'd recently vacuumed her floor, and he could also see that she'd cleaned up since he'd left. She must have been trying to distract herself while he'd been gone, otherwise she wouldn't have cleaned that late at night.

He chose to ignore it, focusing on her instead, on her dark hair, on her gentle smile, on her bare arms.

She shivered when he ran the fingers of one hand slowly along the ridges between hers, across the back of her hand, his broad thumb gently pressing into her palm, circling her wrist, sliding up her lower arm. He didn't pull, didn't push, just slowly caressed, examined, explored. They had all the time in the world.

Her pulse beat hard and steady against his fingers. She was alive.

When he reached the inside of her elbow, she fought down her chuckle, but offered a smile nonetheless. She was slightly ticklish there.

She stepped closer to him when the tips of his fingers skated over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up to her neck. Her gaze dropped from his intent blue eyes to his lips, then swooped back up.  
>Kate didn't hesitate as she leaned forward and brought her mouth to his.<p>

Her kiss was soft at first, like the touch of a feather, like the raindrops outside. And then she sighed against him, sank into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and relaxed into his warm, solid body.

She smiled against his lips, curled her fingers against his chest, tugged slightly at his collar and only stopped when his lips were pressed firmly against hers, her tongue flicking leisurely at his bottom one, but not letting him deepen the kiss. She moved to the corner of his mouth, then nipped her way along his jaw, his neck, as much of him as she could reach without arching too much off her feet.

He could have kept kissing her like this until the world ended. Heaven couldn't possibly have been more appealing than Kate Beckett's mouth on his.

His hand slid from her waist across her stomach, underneath her shirt, her strong muscles rippling under his touch. She kissed him softly, trailed a slow path from the corner of his lips to his earlobe, humming in pleasure.

In moments like these, his feelings for her overwhelmed him, brought him to his knees, made his head dizzy. If it could only be like this every day. If she would only allow him, let him in, dive into it…

Sometimes she did, times like these proved it, so he knew that she was capable of it. He just needed to work harder on peeling away the layers around her heart.

"I love you" he rumbled into her ear, not to start on bringing down her walls, not to prove a point, but for no particular reason other than he liked saying it. She grinned like a teenaged fool against his cheek.

Love.

The word still elicited something inside her stomach, a bright fire in her chest, like fireworks.

No, fireworks was the wrong word, fireworks was when he touched her, when he looked at her in the middle of the precinct and she knew, just knew, that he was mentally undressing her. Fireworks was in their kiss, when he wanted it and she allowed it to be.

Love was different, was calmer, was the light of a candle, the genuine brightness of an actual flame, was in his voice when he said her name, causing a warmth within her.

Instead of answering, she sucked lightly at the soft skin behind his ear, pressed her body closer to him, up against his strong thigh, letting her body do the talking.

"Eager much?" he teased, and she was glad they could make jokes again, was incredibly glad that they were back to simply being together. Kate mentally kicked at what was left of the barriers inside her, allowing her to be free tonight, allowing herself to love him.

"You wish" she grinned into his neck, scraped her nails across the planes of his chest, the shirt fabric warm and pliant underneath her fingertips.

"Hmm" he responded simply, slid his nose against hers, captured her lips in a perfect little kiss.

She arched up, parted her lips for him, sighed happily as he nibbled on her bottom one. Her fingers found his buttons, undid them one by one, unhurried, lazy, slow. Her thumbs brushed against every inch of exposed skin, dipped into the hollow between his ribs, teased the side of his belly button.

When his shirt was thrown to the floor, hers quickly followed, and he paused a moment to gaze at her, not looking into her eyes, but rather glued to her chest.

A purple bruise was beginning to darken just above her bra, where the bullet had been caught by the Kevlar, but made an impact nonetheless.

He ever so gently traced the colored skin with a fingertip, taking a deep breath to let the knowledge sink in that, yes, it had been a close call today, but she was alive.

He bent down to kiss her bruise, mend her injury with a flick of his hot tongue against her skin, mend her broken pieces with his love for her.

He was careful with her, always had been, with her heart and her body just the same. She was such a strong, able, independent, unshatterable fortress that it seemed like a paradox, but if Rick knew anything about her at all, he understood that she bruised easily. She just healed faster than others, just didn't give up as easily as others would.

Almost cautiously he unclasped her bra, freed her breasts, his mouth occupying the space that had just been covered by cotton and lace.

She clung to his shoulders when he sucked on her sensitive tip, moaned in a low voice, but recovered quickly. One of her hands slid down, cupped his fine butt, effortlessly slipped his belt through the loops.

He let go of her breast, kicked his shoes and pants off and then quickly stopped her hands at her hips, her thumbs already tucked into her underwear.

"Shh" he halted her softly. "Let me."

And so she let him.

The tight fabric slid only stubbornly down her legs, but she enjoyed it, even hummed appreciatively at the friction it created. He took her fluffy red home socks with him, but left her in her panties.

She didn't seem to mind.

A lump suddenly closed up his throat as he looked at her, so beautiful, so bare, so vulnerable in front of him. He almost felt nervous as his hands rose to her hips, even though they'd been doing this for half a year now.

She allowed him to cradle her against his strong body, and his mouth went dry at the feeling of her naked breasts pushed up against him.

His lashes fluttered like butterflies against his own cheeks as he took a small step towards her bed and she let him guide her, putting up no resistance but not speeding along either, so that her chest remained pressed into his.

She slowly let herself be lowered down onto her bed by him, never trying to switch their positions, only humming contently when she felt the soft sheets underneath her.

They had been a Christmas gift from him five months ago, the same brand he also used, because he'd caught her more than once running her fingers reverently across the fabric of his bedspread, and she'd even complimented him on the 'delicious' thread count.

He crawled onto the bed with her, turning onto his side so he didn't crush her, his leg between hers, his right arm holding him upright while he laid his left onto her stomach.

His large hand covered her abdomen from the rim of her panties to the underside of her breasts, his thumb teasing her with slow brushes against her skin, her thigh pressing upwards in response, her knees parting for him.

She wanted him, wanted him badly.

Rick loved seeing her impatient, loved it when she wasn't in control, so he whispered a hot kiss to her shoulder, laved his tongue at her collarbone and moved down to suck lightly on her nipple.

Her hips bucked into him, a strangled sound of pleasure falling from her lips as his hard thigh pressed into thin cotton, and the cotton rubbed against wet flesh.

"I can already smell you" he growled against her skin and slid his hand downwards to replace his leg on the outside of her underwear.

"Hnnn" was all she could produce as his thumb brushed deliberately slowly against her damp panties, the rainy air turning musky, beads of sweat forming on his bare back as his arousal whipped up his body temperature. His fingers drew small circles from the inside of one thigh to the other, never resting on one place long enough to provide her with the friction she needed, his touch remaining light and teasing even as she bucked her hips into his hand, her back arching off the bed, her breast pressing against his wet lips.

"Rick" she groaned, her voice needy, her obvious arousal causing his heart to leap out of his chest.

"Yes, my love" he whispered and pressed his fingernail to the side of her clit, hard, delighting in the way she cried out in pain and shock and pleasure, her lower half buzzing and trembling in a surprising orgasm.

"Oh god" she gasped, blushing because she couldn't stop the writhing of her body against his, the desperate arching of her back, the clenching of her thighs and the curling of her toes.

"Hmnphnm" he responded.

Now it was his turn to be reduced to unintelligible sounds.

One of her hands rose languidly to his boxers, the other pulled at his hair, dragged him up to her mouth for a burning, long, achingly slow kiss.

His lips moved urgently against hers, but when her nimble fingers slipped beneath his underwear, he stopped her. That's not how he wanted this night to end, and it would end quite quickly if he let her have her wicked way with him.

His big hands found both of hers, lifted them over her head and pressed them gently into the pillow, silently asking her to keep them there as he traveled down her long body, mapped out her dips and curves with gentle fingers and a talented mouth.

He tugged on her panties, discarded them effectively and then took quick care of his own underwear, leaving them both completely naked on her soft bed, staring into each other's eyes.

"I love you" he repeated and bowed down to kiss his way back up her body, starting at her left knee, passing over her needy middle with a teasing breath, kissing her belly button, the space between her breasts, her purple bruise and finally her thundering heart.

"I love you, too" she replied at last, and it startled him, because he hadn't expected to hear it then. He gave in to the urge to reach up and kiss her fully, parting her lips easily with his tongue.

She hooked her calf around his leg and he positioned himself, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against her cheek. They both held their breath as he slowly pushed into her, squeezing their eyes shut as he slid as far as he could, her warm walls closing around him, welcoming him with a startling ripple of her internal muscles.

Not even a moan or a gasp made it past his lips, that's how overwhelmingly good it felt, that's how close he was to blissful unconsciousness, that's how close he was to pounding into her without holding back.

He simply took a deep, shaky breath, supporting his weight on his elbows by her sides, his arms snaked around her shoulder, his hands in her tousled hair. Gently, with no rush at all, he began to rock them, trying to prolong their pleasure as much as he could.

She moved first, bringing them up so that - with some coordination of their tangled limbs - they were sitting upright on the bed, Kate in Rick's lap, still joined and closer to each other than seemed possible.

Every tilt of her hip made them slide deliciously against each other, every squeeze of his arms around her tightened the coil inside their bodies, warmth spreading through them like molten chocolate on a cold winter day, her toes curling and his blood pulsing. They stayed like that, wrapped around each other, moving softly until she choked on warm air, dug the heels of her feet into his backside and came. The waves of her orgasm spread lazily through her body, tingled warm and comfortable in every cell, taking a long, wonderful time until they subsided. Rick continued his slow thrusts, and as she went limp in his arms, he found his own release.

"Kate?" he asked, breathless and spent, cradling her body to his, the sweat making their hot skin stick together.

"Hm?" she answered in a blissful tone, brushing a quick kiss against his shoulder.

"You're ridiculously glorious" he whispered and she hugged him tightly, smiling into his neck.


	16. Jump Start

**A/N:** _This one goes out to Birthday Kid **Leighace**, who I'm afraid only likes me for the single reason that I write good smut._

_Needless to say, this chapter has smut._

_Oh, and you guys just reached 300 reviews! Yoohoooo! Congratulations my friend **Lady Alena** for pushing this story over the edge and thereby making it a joy for me to post this chapter!_

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><p>Kate woke after only a couple of hours of sleep, something making her aware of her surroundings, of the breeze against her naked skin where the sheets had slipped down, of Rick's warm body next to her.<p>

She turned towards him and found him with his eyes open, watching her, his lips unsmiling, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

"Hey" she rasped and lifted her hand to his troubled forehead. "Why are you awake? Everything okay?"

Rick turned his face, pressed a soft kiss to her palm.

"Yeah, just thinking" he murmured and then stayed quiet, not seeming to want to talk about it.

Kate considered him, tried to read him in the darkness of the room, the moonlight casting more shadows than light onto his features.

"They don't seem to be pleasant thoughts" she commented softly, her voice inquiring, concerned. Tonight, she did the pushing, the nagging.

Rick sighed, his whole body heaving with the sorrowful sound. His voice was only a whisper when he spoke at last, his eyes meeting hers.

"We've survived being locked up inside a freezer, we have stood in front of nuclear bombs…"

He closed his eyes briefly as memories washed over him. "We've been shot at…" he gulped, his voice breaking.

"How much more can we take? When are we going to run out of this insane amount of luck we seem to have?"

Kate dropped her gaze, worried her lip between her teeth, her hand coming up to the bruise on her chest.

"You're right," she agreed quietly. "We are very lucky."

Then there was a moment of silence as she searched for his eyes in the dark room, found his bare chest with her fingers.

"But you need to stop worrying so much. Worrying is not going to help keep us alive."

She gave him a stern look. "Staying awake in the middle of the night to stare at me…that is not going to change anything. So don't."

Her hand came up to trace the slight stubble on his jaw, her thumb brushing his soft lips.

"Don't beat yourself up over the dangers of my job" she admonished softly. Her lips curved into a smile as she tugged him closer to her, angled her head just so.

"If you want to stare at me, do it because I'm alive and we're naked in my bed, not because I almost died."

His eyebrows rose up, appreciating her humor. The tension had been broken; she would have sighed in relief if he hadn't been so close to her.

"Is that so?" he teased, his brows wriggling suggestively.

Her smile turned into a grin, her lips brushing his as she nodded, the silhouette of her hair bobbing in the darkness.

He leaned forward and kissed her, both of their grins fading slowly as she hooked her leg around his, moving further into the cradle of his thighs and boldly pressing her body into his. He sighed delightedly, worry and love and mild amusement being replaced with lust and pleasure, and he deepened the kiss.

She moaned, let her tongue play with his, languidly, the kind of slowly arousing kiss one could only share at 4 o' clock in the morning.

When her fingers snaked down his torso, his skin warm beneath the sheets, his heart beating steadily, he took her hand in his, wrapped his arm around her and turned both of them so he was hovering above her.

"Kate" he gasped as hipbone pressed into hipbone and moonlight illuminated her pale breasts. He kissed her wrist, let go of her hand, cupped her round breast instead, his mouth latching onto her collarbone.

When he had teased her nipples into tight peaks, he ventured lower, dipped his tongue into her belly button so that her back arched beautifully off the bed. He gripped her hips and pushed her body upwards as he slid even further down, his breath fanning out against her upper thigh. His right hand dropped to her ankle, caressed in smooth circles up her long leg, teased the curve of her butt with his nimble fingers.

"Mmm Castle" she mewled, resorting to his last name because she needed him, longed for him.

His hot tongue connected with the inside of her thigh and she gasped, her head thrown back, her hips rising to meet him, insistent. He chuckled against her skin, the sound reverberating through her, shooting tingles of energy and pleasure straight to her core.

Then he lifted her leg up, resting it on his shoulder, making her wonderfully open for him. Kate breathed in deeply, preparing herself; he could see the rise and fall of her chest, her perky nipples taunting him. Her hands threaded into his short hair and he decided to be straightforward with her tonight.

His lips latched onto her without preamble.

"Rick!"

His tongue swept through her folds and he nipped lightly at her smooth lips. She was so wet for him already, so wet. He could smell her musky scent, could see her moisture glisten in the moonlight, could feel the strong muscles in her thigh quiver and flex against his neck.

At last he found her clit, sucked the sensitive nub into his mouth and delighted in the way her legs began to twitch and her fingers tugged sharply on his hair. He pulled away and breathed across her, just breathed, and she screamed out, her back lifting off her bed but her head remaining on the mattress, her body building a beautiful arch. He looked up at her and saw her twisted body, heard the whining that was stuck in her throat, that couldn't quite get past the dryness of her mouth.

He easily slipped a finger into her, flicked the tip of his tongue rapidly at her clit and finally brought her release.

"Mmhhh" was all Kate could say afterwards, the sound higher pitched than usual, and more than a little breathless.

"Ohh."

Slick wetness coated his fingers, stuck to her inside thighs, dripped onto her mattress. Something animalistic clicked inside him and he pushed himself up, crawled up her sinfully luxurious body and positioned himself on top of her.

"Look at me" he urged quietly, waiting for her to open her eyes and give him permission to continue. Her eyelids fluttered open and her hand came lazily up to his jaw. She hadn't even quite reached his face when he pushed into her, sealing his lips to hers in a sweet kiss that countered the strong thrusts of his lower body.

He abandoned her lips to focus on her neck, feast on her sweaty skin, one of his hands palming her breast, his weight supported by his elbows.

He pushed deeply into her, retreated teasingly far, but managed to keep his pace slow. Kate's entire body seemed to burn, to glow so hotly that she felt molten inside.

"Fuck" she gasped as he leaned to press a kiss to the swell of her breast, angling his hips just so, hitting all the perfect spots within her.

Her curse was barely audible, but still the sexiest thing he had ever heard. It startled him so much that he lost rhythm, faltered a little, and she used the opportunity to turn the tables, shoving him onto his back without breaking their connection and straddling him confidently.

He released a whoosh of air on a low groan and she gripped his shoulders, giving him no pause and riding him with abandon. He struggled to find her waist so he had something to hold onto, as the ground seemed to be ripped from beneath his feet.

She was so beautiful, like a goddess above him, like a vixen from his dreams.

She circled her hips and his vision went black, but he held on, held on, opening his eyes and finding her core with his thumb so they could fly together, and soon she was collapsing on top of him, her muscles spasming around him as he gave in, gave in, let go.


	17. Finish Line

"Let's have dinner and a movie with Alexis tonight" he suggested over breakfast. They were having eggs and bacon with cold milk; her orange juice smelled as if it wouldn't survive another day without growing green fur.

Her kitchen was stocked up a lot better since they'd started dating, because he kept writing sticky notes for her whenever she ran out of something.

"I'd like that" she agreed softly and pressed a quick kiss to his milk-foamed lips. She was gently smiling like the fool in love that she was, her eyes warm and happy at the prospect of spending a normal cozy evening with him and his too-quickly-grown-up daughter.

He grinned at her, broad and happy and proud of himself, and she cocked her head to one side. "What? We do that almost every week!"

Her eyebrow rose in suspicion, her voice low. "What are you planning?"

He shook his head. "I just realized that I don't need dark-room restaurants anymore to woo you."

She laughed, finding the thought downright ridiculous.

"You never needed dark restaurants to woo me, Rick."

"But it helped" he insisted and she bit her lip.

"Yeah, it may have helped" she admitted softly, rising up to her toes and giving him another sweet kiss, a little longer this time. Her expression was dreamy when she pulled away, a little dazed, a lot in love. He loved that she showed it now, that she was no longer so terribly scared of it.

Her gaze flickered down to his lips, a blush creeping onto her face.

"In the end, I guess it was inevitable" she whispered.

His eyes lit up in surprise, sparkling with joy.

"So you _do_ believe in faith!"

He expected an eye roll, but she only smiled and turned away to finish her bacon, but didn't deny it.

He refrained from doing a victorious fist pumping gesture.

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><p>The paperwork took longer than she'd expected. Captain Montgomery was being extra careful and had her fill out half a dozen additional forms because of her and Karpowski's "solo mission", however green-lighted it had been. Just as Beckett thought she had it all covered, he made her visit the department's medical staff to re-examine her bruise from the bullet that had hit her vest.<p>

It was close to 7pm when she got the all clear for the well-deserved weekend.

_Coming home now_ she texted Castle, who had spent the day going over his latest chapters, leaving her alone for the most boring task of her job, as always.

_I like the sound of that. We're waiting_ came his reply as she stepped out of the elevator. She smiled, only then registering what she had implied, but not even considering the possibility of taking it back.

_Me too. Very, very much_ she typed boldly, but then deleted the message. She had already told him that she'd say yes if he'd ask her to move in (hell, she'd even agreed to marry him one day!), but she didn't want to tempt him to ask her via text. She nibbled on her lip as she searched for safer words, ever the cautious detective, even after all this time.

_There better be food when I get there, I'm starving._

It only took half a minute for his reply.

_On it._

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><p>When she arrived at the loft 20 minutes later, he greeted her at the door with a gigantic bowl of freshly popped popcorn, his mouth already filled with a handful.<p>

"Wwewwum" he tried to welcome her around the food in his mouth, and she rolled her eyes, brushed past him and straight into Alexis' arms for a quick hug.

"Hi, Kate" the girl greeted, her smile genuine and friendly, even as a hint of concern flashed across her young face and she pulled away.

"Are you okay? Dad told me you got…hit yesterday" she inquired, not daring to spell out the word 'shot'.

"I'm fine, Alexis" the older woman calmed her, squeezing her shoulder for emphasis. "Just an ugly green bruise" she added, because the girl didn't look as if she believed it.

Alexis nodded, accepting Kate's honesty.

"Pirates, spies or thieves?" she asked, the topic of the detective's dangerous job quickly forgotten as they discussed the night's movie of choice.

When she disappeared to get the Ocean's Eleven DVD out of its hiding place in her room, Rick tugged on Kate's hand.

He cradled her to him and hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go. She relaxed into him and he breathed deeply, taking in her scent, her presence, the beating of her heart against his chest.

"What was that for?" she asked once he loosened his grip and she could pull back a little to look up at his face. He shrugged.

"I don't know. Do I need a reason?"

She smiled softly at him. "No. No you don't."

They shared a silent look, their surroundings fading to the background until the feeling of all-encompassing love threatened to overwhelm her, so she looked away.

She huffed, collected herself, slightly shaking her head. Then she looked up at him again, his arms still around her, his body pressed close to hers.

"Just don't do it in the precinct" she amended half-heartedly and he laughed, the sound rumbling from his chest straight into her heart.

"Rules only make things more interesting" he exclaimed and she rolled her eyes.

"No they don't. You just break them."

"Exactly! That's the interesting part!"

She hit his chest and he laughed again.

"You ready?" Alexis called from the stairs, thankfully interrupting their moment before they could start something stupid.

"Anytime, pumpkin" Rick answered, never breaking their gaze as he led Kate towards the couch.

"Anytime."

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Kate's cheeks were hurting from laughing too much, her back ached from sitting on the living room floor in the cradle of Rick's thighs, and her throat felt dry from too much talking and munching popcorn.<p>

She had spotted the Tiffany's box the second Rick had pulled the uncomfortable object out of his pocket to throw it onto the couch behind him, not even bothering to hide it from her view. She had ignored it, mostly, listening to Alexis' analysis of George Clooney instead, but it had remained in the back of her mind the entire evening.

When the movie was over, Alexis excused herself and headed for the stairs to check in with her friends and then go to bed. At the corner, she winked at Rick – winked! – and then disappeared.

Kate had tried to mentally prepare herself for the moment when she'd be alone with him, had not been in denial about what Rick was most probably planning, but somehow the girl's gesture made her nervous.

She suddenly found that her palms were a little sweaty, her throat a little dry.

"Would you like another drink?" he asked, startling her with the only question she hadn't anticipated. She had to blink a couple of times to clear her head.

"Uhh…sure."

He nodded but didn't move, because she was still seated between his legs so she had to get up in order for him to stand. She pushed herself up and turned around to offer her hand to him. He took it and didn't let go as he grabbed their glasses and led her into the kitchen to retrieve the wine they had started earlier.

He poured her a generous glass, his hip resting against the countertop. He set it down in front of him and she expected him to fill his own or lead her back to the couch, but he simply stayed there, staring intently into her eyes, into her soul. He took a deep breath, bracing himself, and slowly reached for her hands.

The wine stood untouched on the counter beside them.

Her lips parted just the tiniest bit, her heart thundering loudly in her chest.

When they both released the air on a shaky swoosh, his eyes crinkled and they shared a grin. No need to be nervous.

"We're both not stupid" he told her. "You know very well what I'm about to do and I have to admit that I thought about it for quite some time, trying to make up my mind about how to ask you."

Kate remained quiet, sensing that he needed to do this in his own time and without interruptions.

"For example, I could tell you that the best days of my life are the days that start with waking up beside you and end with falling asleep in your arms" he said and she smiled - almost shyly, slightly blushing - but said nothing.

"Or I could try to appeal to your compassion and tell you that I can never fall asleep when you're not in my bed, that my days without you are without color, even though Alexis tries her best to cheer me up. Don't tell her that though" he added as an afterthought and they shared another smile. Kate gripped his hands a little tighter.

"I could whine about how terribly lonely I'll be when Alexis leaves for college."

He stopped and waited for the eye roll that promptly came. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled.

"But you kinda already told me that you'd say yes to whatever question I might ask and I know you're not a fan of big and pompous and I have the tendency to overdo it so I hope this will do" he rushed out and even though his words sounded confident, she could feel his hands tremble in hers. He was nervous.

He swallowed and she squeezed his fingers.

"I love you" he stated and the simple three words brought more flutters to her stomach than any and all of his sentences before.

"I love you too" she whispered, not wanting to hold it in, the first thing she'd said in a while. Their eyes met and Rick's long eloquent speeches left him.

"I love you so much" he breathed and she had to close her eyes against the onslaught of feelings cursing through her veins.

He waited her out, remained silent until she opened them again.

"Will you do me the honor of moving in with me?"

Time slowed down, the moment halting so they could savor it. He was counting the seconds and she knew it.

Her smile was slow and warm, accompanied with an almost lazy blink of her long lashes.

Then she nodded.

"Okay" she grinned, the word easy but its meaning heavy, important, extraordinary.

Rick's eyes were sparkling as he drew her closer, releasing her hands only to wrap his arms around her.

No sounds passed between them as she watched him struggle for the right words.

"Great!" he exclaimed at last, in typical Castle fashion, an inch away from her lips.

Kate laughed and closed the distance, the kiss hard and hot and passionate, quickly spinning out of control, their lips parting only to mesh again, invite each other in.

She was going to move in with him. Kate Beckett was going to live with him. He was going to wake up to her every single day, she was going to make up their bed at night, mutter distractedly about the mess he'd left behind, hug Alexis when the girl came home in the afternoon, take a bath in his tub, let him make love to her in the shower…

Wow.

She was going to move in with him.

He bit her lip in excitement, clutched her closer, his tongue needy and wanting and urgent against hers.

They were both breathing heavily when they broke away a minute later. His mouth latched on to her neck, sucking and biting at the spot they both loved, surely leaving a mark.

"Rick" she gasped, but didn't get an opportunity to say anything else because he swallowed her sounds, drank her in like she was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted and she might vanish into thin air any second.

His hands pressed her body into his, into the bulge in his pants as he roughly pushed her backwards until she hit the table. She slid onto it and opened her legs to let him settle between them, then threw her head back to get some air, presenting him with the alluring sight of her perfect neck.

"We should..." he started and latched onto her with his lips, his fingers digging into her thigh, bunching up her shirt, desperate to touch her skin.

"…christen the table" he panted as he nipped his way to her collarbone. She was breathless already, her vision dark and blurry, his almost aggressive domination of her body making her senses swim.

"We...uhh...did!" she tried to respond, pulling at his shirt, and he deserted her neck to help her get rid of it.

She took the opportunity to form a coherent sentence.

"I think we 'christened' just about every surface in this loft..."

His eyes gleamed with lust and mischief as he ripped her shirt above her head and pulled back, both of their upper bodies naked and heaving.

"Well, now that you are moving in…"

His knuckles slid down her bra straps, caressed her bare side.

"…we might just need to repeat the whole procedure, detective!"

He captured her lips again, kissed her aggressively and pushed down her bra, but she shoved him away with firm hands.

"Alexis" she said and he sighed, the single word more effective than an ice cold shower.

"Killjoy" he murmured, but bent down to pick up their discarded clothes. His large hand at the naked small of her back led her into his study, her own fingers busy with the button of her pants.

She stripped in front of him, not making a fuss about it, letting him see the urgent lust in her eyes as she took off her underwear right away. He leered at her and fumbled with his own pants, eager to get to her.

She laughed at him and moved towards his desk, sweeping his manuscripts to the floor in a fluid motion and sliding onto it, her look sly and confident.

He was in front of her in a split second, humming his approval as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and her slender fingers around him.

"That's gotta be illegal" he moaned and she winked at him, then leaned up to slide her tongue against the hollow of his throat, her thumb on his tip.

"Wanna handcuff me?" she seduced him, nipping on his earlobe, and he gasped, rocked his hips forward, colliding with her, hot and ready.

"No time" he pressed out between clenched teeth and then he was inside her and she was screaming his name, her fingers curling against the taut muscles of his stomach, her other hand digging into his shoulder.

He pulled away only to thrust forward again, everything about this hot and hard and fast, heightened by the knowledge of belonging together, of neither of them turning back.

"Oh god" she panted, but then they were silent, her hand falling to the smooth desktop to hold herself up as he pounded into her, his mouth feasting on her neck, marking her, her hot breath passing by his ear every time he knocked it out of her. He hit everything inside her, bringing her higher with every thrust, the need in her lower body coiling, tighter and tighter, her toes curling against his backside, her eyes squeezed shut. His finger brushed over her nipple, a little rough, her skin red and hot wherever he touched her, a moan stuck in her throat as she choked, almost there, almost flying, almost…yes, right there, just a little…a little more…

"Now" he moaned and thrust deeply into her, pinching her nipple, and she came with him, both of them trembling, grinding, pressed together, never letting go.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Apparently, "No Smut" is not an option. Never._

_Oh, well. I'm not really complaining. Are you?_


	18. New Destinations

**A/N:**_ Reminder: Rick's bedroom is upstairs in this fanfic. Only his study is downstairs. I like it that way and I won't go back and change it. :D_

* * *

><p>They parted, panting and slack-jawed, their pupils wide and dark, their eyelids heavy. Her naked thighs stuck lightly to the tabletop and her hand left an imprint of sweat as she pulled it up to brush her wild hair out of her face.<p>

"Welcome home" he huffed and she laughed, her head falling forward to rest against his bare chest.

After another minute of catching their breath, she kissed his salty skin and looked into his eyes, smiling widely, sex and love and joy beaming out of her. His heart constricted in his chest and he couldn't help but lean down to brush a kiss against her curved lips.

"Go ahead and hop into the shower. I'll clean this up and join you" he murmured and tugged on her hands until her feet hit solid ground.

"Hmmm, you better" she replied, her voice low and seducing, her gaze slipping to his bare ass as she grabbed his shirt from the floor and slid into it, buttoning only a couple of buttons. She strolled out of his study with an extra swing to her hips, her long legs bare and her skin glowing as she prayed that his daughter was already asleep.

He leered after her, a dreamy smirk etched into his features as he was torn between dropping everything and running after her and sitting down to write a Heat scene worth the name.

On his way upstairs five minutes later, he remembered the Tiffany box still nestled into the popcorn-stained couch cushions. He retrieved it with one hand, the other arm carrying the rest of their clothes, except for the boxers he had pulled back on in case he ran into Alexis.

He dropped everything onto his large bed and then sauntered into his bathroom, stopping for a second in the doorway to listen to Kate humming a soft and happy tune under the spray of the water.

He kicked off his silky underwear, not even looking after it as it disappeared below the sink, his eyes attached firmly to her silhouette. His body was acutely aware of her nudity, of the steam rising from the shower to lie like a thin coat of hot water beads against his skin, of her sonorous alto voice turning him on. He could see the sharp jut of her bones, her firm curves, the outline of her strong thighs through the lightly frosted glass of his shower door.

Her hair was a dark, shapeless mess around her face as she threw her head back under the spray from the showerhead, her eyes closed.

Her humming trailed off as he opened the glass door and stepped into the spacious alcove with her, and he gave her a pouty smile.

"Please don't stop" he pleaded, but she shook her head, grasping his hands instead to pull him under the spray.

He yelped and jumped back.

"That's hot!" he squeaked, his voice entirely too high to sound manly and strong.

"If you want a cold shower, you have to wait until I'm out of here" she laughed at him, rinsing her cherry shampoo from her hair.

"Why would I want a cold shower?" he questioned and held his arms out to adjust to the temperature, his toes inching towards her.

"Because I'm not having sex with you in here" she stated matter-of-factly. His eyes widened in surprise.

"You're not?"

She shook her head. "I'm not."

"But…but…" he stammered. "Why?"

Kate dropped her hands from her hair, sighing.

"Because we just had sex. In your study" she argued, her voice lowered even though no one could possibly hear her. "On your desk" she added and…was that a blush on her cheeks?

"On my desk" he confirmed, and he would have been proud of that statement if he weren't so confused by her behavior. "So?"

She avoided his gaze, turning around to grab her body wash. He kept prodding.

"So what, Kate? Do you A: not want to have sex in the shower because we just had sex or B: because we just had sex on my desk or C: because you don't want to have sex with me right now?"

She turned around, body wash in her hand, mild amusement on her face. "Really, Castle? A list?"

He grinned, now definitely proud of himself.

"What's your answer, detective?" he asked, smiling at her, but when her gaze dropped to an indefinite point behind him, he realized he must have somehow gotten the point. Thinking back on what he had just said, he scrounged up his face in confusion, his eyebrows drawn together.

"You don't want to have sex with me because you're a detective?" he asked, a little incredulous.

Her blush told him that he was right. She nibbled on her lower lip, then sighed and finally looked up at him.

"Rick, we're not teenagers anymore" she told him, and it almost sounded regretful. "I just agreed to move in with you. We're adults, we're in a relationship, we're not having a wild horny secret affair!" she said firmly, her statement losing part of its authority as a wet strand of hair fell into her line of sight and she shook her head slightly to brush it aside.

"We can't just go around having horny teenager sex in crazy places!" she hushed, like it was a secret and forbidden thing they shared.

Rick stepped closer, a small lopsided smile making it to his face, now that he knew that this was probably something they could work through, that she wasn't shutting down on him.

"Kate, I'm not exactly forcing you to have sex with me. It's not just my fault we're doing it all over the place, like horny teenagers as you so nicely put it."

He could see her struggling to keep her face unreadable, but he saw hints of insecurity in her eyes so he stopped his grin and replaced it with a more serious expression. Her gaze flickered from his sincere eyes to a spot on his chest, then back up.

"I've just…" she started, then stopped and looked away again. "I've just never had it like this before" she admitted, her voice quiet and almost amazed. "This crazy and wild…."

As if she herself was in wonder.

"It's so uncontrollable" she whispered and he could barely hear her over the noise of the shower. Then it was firmer again as she looked straight into his eyes, her mouth a defiant line.

"We should be more mature."

Castle grinned even though he knew better, but he couldn't help but let his mind dip into the area of dirty innuendo that he was constantly circling around.

"Oh Kate, I think we've been doing pretty 'mature' things…" he husked, his voice sexy and raspy, his eyes full of teasing mischief. He didn't miss the way she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, or that she crossed her arms in front of her so that he wouldn't see the hardening of her nipples.

"Anyway" he cleared his throat, angling their bodies so that the hot spray of water hit his backside, finally getting .

"You're right about one thing - we are adults. That doesn't mean we can't have sex on the work desk, it means we can have sex however and wherever we want to, because it's nobody's business but ours" he emphasized with a small smile. He caressed her cheek with his thumb and felt her lean into his touch.

"If I'm honest I have no idea where this is coming from, Kate" he admitted earnestly. "You never seemed to have a problem with the way we have sex. You're not exactly a prude. And it's not like we're doing the really kinky stuff, I mean, I'm not tying you up or letting you cuff me or…"

She looked away from him then, blushing furiously even though she tried to suppress it, her pupils dilating and her mouth falling open on a little "Oh".

Rick's face changed from serious to playful and surprised in the split of a second. "Oh my goodness…" he muttered, a corner of his mouth lifting up in an all-knowing smirk.

"You like it!" he exclaimed and she turned even further away from him, trying to distract both of them by squeezing a large dollop of body wash into her hand and capping the bottle.

"You enjoy having sex on the work desk" he stated, not even pretending to make it sound like a question. He stepped closer and she stepped away, under the disguise of lathering her body with the scented bubbles, still not meeting his eyes.

"You'd very much enjoy having sex in this shower right now" he continued, his voice dropping lower, pure erotic lust and playful teasing as he followed her motion, crowding closer. Her hands slowed down their circles as she lathered her breasts.

"You're afraid you might like it too much" he concluded.

"You're afraid there's more Nikki Heat in you than you can control."

Kate swiveled around and looked at him, at last, her lips slightly parted, her eyes wide, stuck somewhere between fear and arousal but darkening by the second.

"Yeah" she whispered breathlessly, as she ran her hands lower, her fingers skimming the flat surface of her stomach. He could see her struggle for that last bit of self-control. "Yeah, that might just be it."


	19. Resonance

He surged forward and kissed her, hard and passionate, her small hands trapped between their slick bodies, between her stomach and his. She slid them around his hips and to the small of his back as he pressed into her, his erection at her thigh, his teeth closing around her bottom lip.

She moaned, full and vibrant, his hands cupping her rear and pushing her backwards until she collided with the wall. She gasped at the sudden shock of cold tile on hot skin, then moaned once more as he slid his hands lower so he could lift her up, her legs wrapping around him intuitively.

"Rick" she pleaded, but her breathless, high-pitched voice made it hard to tell what she was begging for.

"Tell me to stop" he rumbled with his teeth against her neck, his large palm covering her breast, squeezing almost painfully while his other thumb pressed into the crease of her thigh. Her nails left angry red lines on his back as she clawed at him.

"No" she breathed coarsely.

His teeth broke her skin, drew blood from the beating pulse of her neck. She screamed; pain and pleasure, her hips bucking into him, begging for his touch, craving him with an urgent and heady need.

She wanted to draw her hands around to his front and finally join them, but he stopped her, angrily yanking her wrists upwards, crushing them into the wall above her head, his body hovering, large and almost threatening in front of her.

"Rick…"

His name fell from her lips like a plea – again - this time its meaning perfectly clear. He let go of her neck to look into her eyes, stare her down, his pupils dark and swirling. Everything was still for a moment, motionless, the only sound the rushing of the shower that had drowned out their moans.

He slowly leaned forward, so slowly that she feared he might never reach her lips, and indeed he stopped with his breath moist against her cheek, eased his grip on her wrists so he wasn't bruising her anymore and tangled their fingers together.

She slumped a little against the tiles and her legs muscles began to quiver, but he didn't reach down to support her. Instead he raised their hands even higher, until her fingers brushed the strong iron bar that was installed above her, usually serving as a towel rack, and let go.

"Hold on" he ordered, authoritative and firm, her eyes rolling back in her head and her mouth gaping open as she desperately gripped for the iron handle.

"I…" she gasped, her voice hitching, "I can't…" she protested but he didn't falter, just raised his hands again to close them around hers.

His lips finally touched hers, a wet open kiss that remained so soft and gentle that it stood in stark contrast to the aggressiveness of his grip, to the demand in his voice as he spoke against her parted mouth.

"You can."

He pushed into her with a single fast thrust, stilled as she choked, as her muscles fluttered around him and finally relaxed. He slowly withdrew his hands, making sure that she could carry her weight on her own, only supported by her strong thighs still clenched around his hips.

He ran his fingertips just barely across them, then suddenly gripped her, so firmly that he was surely leaving bruises as he started to thrust into her in a fast and steady pace. His short nails dug into her skin, payback for the claw marks on his back, and she screamed again, no longer able to keep her volume in check.

"Shit" she cursed as her hands began to slip from the handle and she was forced to hold on tighter, her knuckles white, her veins jumping beneath her skin. Every one of his thrusts made her backside knock into the wall and all the air she had sucked in leave her body at once.

Her vision was blurry, pink and green spots appearing at random, an all-encompassing blackness in some moments robbing her of the ability to see anything at all.

He wasn't faring much better, all his nerve endings raw and desperate, his entire body craving release, his heart rushing his blood through his veins at a deafening pace.

His left hand slipped between them and his thumb found her clit, slick with her own wetness even as the shower pounded down on both of them, the water droplets chasing each other across their skin.

Her arms finally gave in and she slid a couple of inches down the wall, sinking lower onto him, her thigh muscles quivering. He hit a new spot deep inside her as their hips collided and the noise that was involuntarily ripped from her throat barely sounded human.

Her hands fell to his head, pulled at his hair as her tongue found his ear, her teeth closing around the lobe.

"Now" she breathed and that was all it took; they both lost control and after another couple of rocking motions, they fell across the edge together.

* * *

><p>"You think teenagers would have done it like that?" he smirked, smoothing his hands down her sides after they'd caught their breaths and turned off the water.<p>

The statement suddenly brought images to her mind, unbidden, of the teenager sleeping three rooms down the hallway.  
>Oh god.<p>

She grimaced and their eyes met. Rick's smirk dropped away; he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"That's actually really disturbing. I can't even… uah" he shuddered, and a small compassionate smile made it onto Kate's face.

They cleaned each other up and while Kate was brushing her wet hair in front of the bathroom mirror, Rick wandered into his adjoining bathroom, a towel slung around his hips.

He moved the discarded clothes he'd dropped earlier from the bedspread to the chair by the door, so he could pull back the covers. While he leaned across the bed to untuck them, he caught sight of the Tiffany box he'd put there as well.

He picked it up and walked over to the bathroom door, leaning against the frame with one hip as he popped the box open.

Kate turned her head, sensing his presence, and almost dropped her brush in startled surprise.

"Oh. Right. I'd forgotten about that."

She placed the brush on the edge of the sink and slowly moved closer, taking in her view of him in the crisp white low-slung towel, water drops clinging to his broad chest, his hair sticking up in every direction, his hands presenting her with the pretty box and the even prettier pendants on the chain of the key that meant so much more than "so you can water my plants when I'm gone".

She reached out for it, caressed the items with her fingertips; the tiny handcuffs, the little police badge, the locket with _their_ word engraved in its polished surface.

Always.

She took the key and the accessories out of the box and closed her hand around them, almost possessively.

"Thank you."

He just smiled at her, the soft skin around his eyes crinkled, his gaze warm and …loving. Yes. So full of love for her. Gratitude, too. For choosing him, choosing them, allowing him past her walls. For finally moving in with him.

"I thought about adding a book first, but then I came across the cuffs and realized they were…quite fitting."

She smiled back at him, her thumb brushing across the little silver pendants. "I like it."

"I'm glad."

Suddenly she averted her gaze, clutching her hand and its treasures to her chest, securing the towel she had wrapped around herself.

He watched her swallow with interest, curious what she was thinking and a little anxious too.

"These…what just happened…what will happen in the future…umm…"

His brows crinkled as her eyes flickered up to his, uncertain, and dropped back down in matter of milliseconds. Apparently, her mind had drifted back to the…rather delicate topic that they had started at the beginning of their shower.

"This won't show up in any of your books, right? You're not going to…umm…expose us like that, are you?"

Rick released a breath of relief and stepped forward, his hands coming up to cradle her warm face. "Kate" he sighed and ghosted a kiss across her lips. She didn't make any effort to push him away, struggling to keep her expression unreadable as she tried to keep her insecurity from showing.

Kate Beckett was insecure. She really was a mystery he was never going to solve.

"Kate, I love you" he started, his voice soothing, his smile mild and sincere, but definitely present.

"And yes, you're my inspiration, because you're a strong, powerful female leader and you're extraordinary and beautiful and you inspire me with every breath you take."

His thumbs brushed across her cheeks, across the tender skin just below her bottom lip.

"And yes, some of your backstory has made it into the books, because I started following you around to write them as accurate as possible, and your past has made you who you are, so I tried to give Nikki a backstory too, one that would make her character more believable. But the relationship between Rook and Nikki…" he trailed off, letting one hand drop to her neck, her shoulder.

"They are not us. They never were. Of course I think of us when I write…those scenes, but believe me when I say that I have more than enough fantasies in my head to supply me with an endless amount of steamy scenarios that are not based on what has actually happened."

She smiled softly, the corner of her mouth quirking up, pleased with his answer.

"Okay, then. Write away."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _I cannot thank you enough for all your support. University has kept me so busy that I haven't had a chance to reply to reviews in a long time and it bothers me a lot. I feel really guilty about it, because as an avid reader myself, I know how great it feels to get in touch with the authors. Please be assured that I appreciate every single one of you, whether you "only" read, or add me to favorites or alerts, or whether you leave me beautiful reviews. I love you. I wouldn't be here without you._


	20. Home

Sleep came to them easily, as exhausted as they were. They scooted under the covers, Rick flicked the light switch, and by the time he had gathered Kate into his arms, she was sound asleep. The fact that they knew they could sleep in because it was an off-duty Saturday for her didn't hurt either.

That's why Rick was especially surprised to find that, when he woke up, the bed was empty and her side already cold.

"Kate?" he croaked, his voice still a little gruff and heavy. He listened closely to catch whether she answered from the adjoining bathroom, even though he had the feeling she wouldn't, and indeed the horn of a fire truck somewhere down the block was the only sound disturbing the silence of the room.

No sign of Kate.

Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, he lifted himself up and glanced at the clock. Already after 10 – no wonder she was up and running.

The comfortable warmth beneath the covers was tempting him to lie down for a little while longer, but finding out what Kate was up to presented the bigger mystery, so he reluctantly crawled out of bed. His feet hit the ground with a thump, his limbs heavy, his movements still slow. A vertebra in his back cracked as he stretched out, and he couldn't suppress a quiet groan as he bent to pull on his boxers.

"Getting old, Mister Castle" he muttered to himself, running his hand through his spiked out hair to untangle the too-long curls, then cautiously patting it down.

His bare feet were a little icy, but he couldn't find last night's socks and he hadn't seen his slippers in over a month. He'd given up the search - It was the end of May anyway, so he probably wouldn't catch a cold from running around his apartment barefooted for a couple of hour.

The writer slid into his silky-soft robe and padded out of the bedroom, tying the string of the robe once, then again as he reached the top of the stairs and realized it had come undone already.

He almost stumbled over his own two feet when he heard the joyous laughter of his daughter ring through the loft, bouncing off the walls and multiplying its bright force, accompanied by his girlfriend's piercing laugh.

As the stairway opened up he was presented with such a dazzling view that he wished he had a camera nearby to capture the sight; to immortalize this moment.

The two most important women of his life were sitting on the couch, their feet tucked underneath their legs and their upper bodies angled towards each other, Kate's hand resting comfortably on Alexis' arm on the back rest. The younger one's free hand was smoothing out her sweatpants at her thigh, brushing against the older one's leg because they sat close; wonderfully at ease, beautifully at home.

It was their home now.

For as long as Alexis was still living at the loft, for all of this summer at least, this was going to be their home. The three of them (four, when Martha wasn't sleeping at her acting school, like she'd started to do some time ago), every day, every morning rushing through the bathrooms, stumbling over each other at breakfast, kissing each other goodbye, watching movies on the couch, falling asleep curled around each other, Alexis on one side, Kate on his other.

Right now, their faces were flushed with laughter, beaming with joy and happiness and pure love. They were completely unaware of him until he reached the bottom of the stairs, and the sigh of the wood beneath his weight gave him away.

Two heads swiveled around to greet him, their smiles not dimming in the least at his intrusion on the breathtaking moment they had shared.

"Good Morning, Dad!"

"A good morning it is, sweetheart! What are you two laughing about?"

"You" the two answered in unison, shared a conspirative look and burst out laughing, apparently referring wordlessly to a joke he wasn't privy to. Rick rolled his eyes – they were all picking up habits from each other – and walked over to them, his cold feet appreciating the fact that the living room floor was heated.

"What else is new…" he commented good-humoredly as they had quieted down enough to be able to hear him. He slightly shook his head in amusement and dropped down beneath his daughter on the couch, throwing his arms around her waist, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked, his voice subdued now that he was even closer. Alexis turned her head a little bit to kiss his cheek.

"We waited for you."

Castle perked up, catching Kate's eyes, warmth and love spreading through him in waves. "You did?"

"We did" she smiled, and his daughter's red hair brushed against his neck as she nodded her head in agreement.

"We were hoping you wouldn't sleep much longer, so we – oh!"

Surprise stopped Kate in the middle of her sentence as she caught sight of the current time on the display of the DVD recorder.

"We've been talking for over an hour, Alexis!" she exclaimed, squeezing the girl's upper arm affectionately. Rick raised his head up from its place on his daughter's shoulder in order to see her face.

"It's been so wonderful, Kate" the girl proclaimed earnestly, moving her arm to grasp the older woman's hand. "I'm really glad dad finally convinced you to move in!"

Kate looked up from the girl to her father, her smile changing from joyful and affectionate to breathtakingly in love; her lips pressing together as if she was trying to contain the feeling, to keep the butterflies inside that still after all this time erupted at the kind of look he was giving her, always had and always would, probably.

She couldn't think of anything she'd rather do than spend her every day with this wonderful man and his wonderful daughter.

"Yes."

She bit her lip, inhaled.

"I think it's time."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** _Guys and Gals, this is it. Kind of. This is the official end of Crossroads. There IS, however, an epilogue already in the works. And maybe even some additional bonus chapters after that._

_I'm also starting on several other, probably shorter stories that I will publish during the next month or so. Unless you can convince me to work a little faster ;)_

_Speaking of reviews – I want to take a moment to thank all of you._

**_From the deepest place in my heart, I thank you for reading this story, for allowing me to share it with you, for allowing the story to be part of your life, for writing me reviews or twitter messages or tumblr asks or emails, for making suggestions and feeding my plot bunnies and giving criticism and making me a better writer._**

**_I wouldn't be studying what I am studying right now, if it weren't for Castle, and even more so for FanFiction. Your support and love in this fandom made me believe that I could do anything I set my mind to. It also was the final push I needed to try and make a career in filmmaking.  
>Who knows, maybe some day I'll be writing my own tv show, and I'll have you to thank for it at my Golden Globes speech ;) <em>**

**_Thank you._**

**_Lina_**


	21. Epilogue I: Boxed Memories

**A/N:** _I know it's been a while since I wrote for this universe, but as I told you in the last author's note: Although this story is complete, I will add bits and pieces whenever the mood strikes._

_Well, it struck alright ;)_

_This is an epilogue of sorts, but because it will be quite a long one (multiple chapters) I decided to publish it as its own story. You can read the beginning here and I will post the rest in a bit, under the name "Boxed Memories"._

_I've missed writing for this universe, and I've missed all of my wonderful Ignition-verse readers!_  
><em>I hope you'll enjoy!<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue I: Boxed Memories<strong>

Rick didn't have to search for her; she'd left the door open. He simply followed his ears.

He found her on the floor in the guest room, the room that would be her office, a clutter of opened and unpacked boxes sitting around her as she strummed the chords of an old folk song on her guitar.

He stopped in the doorway, smiled at her as she poked the tip of her tongue out in concentration, her fingers a little cramped on the strings.

She let the last chord fade away and looked up at him; he hadn't been quiet enough for her to not notice him. Her smile was shy, a little nervous even - he'd never been allowed to see her play. He'd stumbled across the pretty guitar with the unusual sideways cutout one day in April, but she'd refused to play for him.

"You still surprise me" he told her softly, something akin to pride in his voice. "Every time I think I've got you figured out, you do something unexpected."

He could see the struggle in her eyes as she tried to keep from blushing, and he grinned, pleased with himself, as he pushed away from the doorframe and stepped closer.

"I'm almost done in here" she said and reached out to touch his leg when he was close enough. He dropped down to her level, crouching at her side, her hand on his knee keeping him balanced.

"Mm" he murmured approvingly, his fingers travelling up her shoulder to her neck. He didn't lean in to kiss her, and he probably would have toppled over if he'd tried, but his thumb brushed her cheek in a gesture as tender as any kiss could be.

"How'd your meeting go?" she asked softly and he grimaced in response.

"As expected" he said and she let her fingers draw circles on his thigh, both comfort and pity.

He loved that she was so touchy lately. Ever since she'd realized how much he feared for her life, how scared he was every time she went out to catch bad guys and how badly he needed her physical contact, the proof that she was alive and well, she'd allowed herself to give in to her urges to touch him more often.

His gaze flickered away from her eyes to a spot behind her back, focusing on the only box she hadn't unpacked yet.

"What's in that box over there?" he asked and huffed like an old man as he stood up and reached for it...


End file.
